Vitality
by RedQ
Summary: "It's…it's cancer, Joe," Barry whispered. Joe's face didn't change. He didn't say anything. He just stared at him. "W-what?" he finally whispered. "Please don't freak out," Barry said quickly, "Don't make a bigger deal out of it than it is. Caitlin's going to treat it, and everything's going to be fine." "You have cancer?" Joe asked numbly. (Major rewrite of Crashing)
1. Churning Point

**This is a drastic rewrite of my first fanfiction, Crashing. My writing style has changed significantly from when I first started writing, and I've been dying to rewrite this story ever since I finished it. I wanted to make it as good as it can possibly be. Hopefully my writing will be better than my horrible photo editing skills (yes, I'm aware of how terrible the cover looks. I'm no photoshop expert and only had Paint to work with).**

 **I will keep the original posted on my profile in case anyone still wants to peruse it, but this version will be officially taking the place of the original Crashing.**

 **Trust me, this** ** _will_** **be better than the original! I'm taking out parts, yes, but I'm** ** _adding_** **so much more. Wally will be in this story—really, I'm shocked no one said anything when I completely cut him out of the original—as well as several other characters I left out of the first version. Regardless of the characters I'm adding, you can always count on me to keep it Barry-centric.**

 **This will still follow the same general storyline, and the outcome will be the same. Most of what I'm changing is in the earlier chapters. Later chapters won't have too many changes—although, I will most definitely be adding new scenes and I might get more** ** _bold_** **with it. I'm not as afraid of crossing lines now as I was when I first started writing.**

 **It might seem like a ridiculous waste of time to rewrite an already completed story, but it's been bothering me for over a year, thinking about all the things I would change if I had the chance. I started rewriting parts of it—just for myself—but after writing over ten chapters, I just said, "Screw it. I'm going to post it."**

 **So here it is.**

* * *

 **Churning Point**

* * *

The nausea was the worst part of it—the intense nausea he felt every time he thought of Jay's death, of the entire earth he had abandoned and left to Zoom's mercy. Barry was so sick about it, he thought he was going to _actually_ be sick. His stomach had been churning nonstop ever since he had returned from earth two, and it was getting to the point where he could hardly eat anything anymore.

If anyone thought Barry was acting strange, they simply chalked it up to grief over Jay's death. They didn't really know the other thing that was bothering Barry: he felt like he had cut corners—like he hadn't really defeated Zoom but just took an easy way out by closing the breaches. It felt like a coward's win to him. It felt more like running away than it did winning.

Barry didn't really know where to go from here. He didn't know what to do. So, he did the only thing he knew _how_ to do: he ran.

"Allen," Harry sighed as he walked into the treadmill room, "You know you don't have to keep training now, right? The breeches are closed."

Barry stumbled off the treadmill and grabbed a towel to wipe his face. He was sweating a lot more than usual for some reason, and the running hadn't really done much to help his queasy stomach. Nothing would. Nothing would absolve him of this guilt churning in his gut.

"I know," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath, "I just…I don't know what else to do right now."

"Celebrate," Harry said with a shrug, "It's over."

"That's just it," Barry said in a strained voice, "It doesn't _feel_ like it's over. It feels like I simply washed my hands of the problem."

"It was never your problem to begin with," Harry said firmly, "Now, go home. Get some rest. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Barry nodded silently and walked out of the treadmill room. The irony didn't go unnoticed by him. Harry had been the one pushing him to go faster for weeks, but now that his daughter was safe, he was urging Barry to _rest_.

Barry didn't go home to rest after he left STAR Labs, though. Instead, he went to the CCPD. His trip to earth two had caused him to fall behind at work, and he had been working extra hard lately to get caught up.

As Barry worked endlessly to finish his case reports, he tried to remember the last time he slept. Somehow, time seemed to be playing tricks on him lately, the days of the week melding into each other until it felt to him like one long day.

He didn't know why he was suddenly having so much trouble sleeping. He had thought the nightmares would stop after he returned from earth two, but they didn't. They were no longer about Zoom killing Patty—she was safe in Midway—but he still dreamt of the monster terrorizing his city.

He dreamt of earth two and the life he had experienced there. He dreamt of earth two Iris and the life his doppelganger was lucky enough to have with her. Even though those dreams were bittersweet, they weren't exactly negative. They weren't nightmares, which was why Barry didn't understand why he woke up from them in a cold sweat. Sometimes, he woke up in a cold sweat without even having a dream, and for whatever reason, he couldn't ever fall back asleep. He would lay in bed all night, tossing and turning, just like his queasy stomach.

The nausea he had been experiencing seemed to only be getting worse, not better. It was starting to affect his appetite now, and Barry knew he wasn't ingesting enough calories lately. Maybe that's why he was feeling so fatigued. That, combined with the lack of sleep and the emotional toll earth two had had on him, were causing him to feel lethargic most of the time. It made it difficult to focus on his work.

"Barry."

Barry jolted awake and lifted his head from his desk. When had he fallen asleep? He quickly blinked and rubbed his eyes, looking over to the person who had spoken.

"Joe," he sighed, "You scared me. I thought you were Singh."

"Funny you should mention Singh," Joe said, moving over to lean up against Barry's desk, "I just ran into him downstairs, and he had a little talk with me…about you."

"What did he say?" Barry asked nervously.

"He said I should tell you to go home," Joe replied seriously, "He seems to think you've been pulling too many late nights here."

"It's only three in the afternoon," Barry pointed out.

"He said you've been here past ten every night," Joe said, giving Barry a serious look, "Here I thought you were just pulling extra hours as the Flash. I didn't know you were really spending all those hours at _work_ this whole time."

"I'm just trying to stay caught up," Barry sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, "I haven't been focusing too great lately. It's taking me longer to get my cases done."

Joe frowned at him.

"Why?" he asked, "Because of Zoom? The breaches are closed now."

"I know," Barry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Joe sighed and put a hand on Barry's shoulder.

"I know Jay's death has been weighing heavily on you," he said solemnly, "It's been weighing on _all_ of us. But please, Bar, don't do the same thing you did with Ronnie and Eddie. Don't isolate yourself and try to take on all the blame and regret. We're not going to let you do that this time."

"I know," Barry sighed, looking down at his lap, "I…I won't."

Joe didn't understand, though. Jay's death _was_ his fault, as well as any other deaths that now occurred on earth two because he had abandoned them. Joe had no idea what Barry was feeling right now.

"I should get this report to Singh before I go," Barry sighed, looking down at his nearly finished report, "He wanted it on his desk by the end of the day."

"Okay, finish your report then," Joe said seriously, "But then you should go home and get some sleep. You're not doing yourself or anyone else any favors by running yourself ragged."

Barry's lips twitched slightly at Joe's choice of words.

"Alright," he said, "I'll see you at home later then. Is Wally still coming over for dinner and family game night?"

Joe nodded.

"He's coming over at six," he said, "I'd like for you to be there. You missed the last one to go out on Flash duty. You should take the night off for once to rest and spend time with family."

Barry smiled at him.

"I'll be there," he said, "I promise."

* * *

Singh hated paperwork. He loved being the captain of the CCPD, but he absolutely despised all the paperwork that came with it. Really, filling out and signing off on different forms made up the bulk of his job, and it never failed to make the days feel longer. His workload was abnormally large today of all days, thanks to the fact that his senior CSI was now retiring.

Really, Singh had brought this work on himself. He was the one who had pushed CSI Southworth to finally retire. It was about time the man left the precinct. Singh should have done this years ago.

Singh looked up from his paperwork when he heard a quiet tap on his door.

"Come in," he clipped, irritated by the interruption.

Of course, it had to be Barry Allen who walked into the office. The kid was probably going to talk his ear off for the next twenty minutes now.

"Allen," he sighed, "I thought I told Joe to send you home. You've been here late almost every night this week."

"I'm heading home right after this," the young CSI assured him, "I just wanted to drop off this case you asked for before I leave."

"Oh, yeah," Singh said, rubbing his eyes, "I forgot about that."

Great, more paperwork for him to sign off on. Rob was going to kill him if he was late for dinner again. Signing off on the case wouldn't take long. No, what would take long would be sitting here, listening to Allen excitedly explain every minute detail of the case. Singh appreciated the kid's enthusiasm and how thorough he always was, but sometimes Allen could be a little _too_ thorough.

Barry didn't launch into a big science rant, though. In fact, he surprised Singh by simply walking over to set the file on his desk without a word. When Barry got closer to him, that's when Singh got a better look at his face. The kid had dark circles under his eyes, and his already pale skin seemed to be a couple shades whiter today.

"You feeling alright, Allen?" Singh asked, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

"Fine," Barry replied unconvincingly, "Why?"

"You look like shit," the captain said bluntly, "You should really try to get some sleep when you go home."

"I will," Barry assured him, "I'll try to get more sleep tonight and come back fresh tomorrow. Sorry, sir."

"I don't want you to _apologize_ ," Singh said incredulously, "I'm just saying you should get more rest. The late nights you've been pulling here can't be good for you."

"Sor—I mean, I know," Barry stammered, "I'm just trying to stay caught up on everything, that's all. I'll try not to fall behind next week, sir. I promise."

"Okay," Singh said seriously before going back to his paperwork.

Barry turned to leave then. He was almost to the door when Singh called out to him.

"Allen," he said, causing Barry to turn around, "You…you're doing a good job."

Barry blinked at him, and then a small smile formed on his face.

"Thank you, sir," he said before turning and leaving.

Singh sighed and went back to his paper work. He was glad he had said something. Really, it had been a while since he had seen the kid smile. He knew he was sometimes a little too harsh on the forensic scientist, but the truth was, he really _did_ respect the man. Barry was the best in his department, and Singh was reminded of that when Barry had been in a coma and he was left with only Southworth to do all of the forensic work in his absence.

Southworth had been the head of the CSI department. He was ancient, and by the time Barry had come to work at the precinct he had lost his flair and his passion for his work. Barry had been signed on as his forensic assistant, but he had quickly outshined Southworth, being the scientific genius he was. Southworth had become rather bitter towards his assistant over the years.

When he was training Barry for the job, he had quickly realized Barry's knowledge and expertise in the field readily outweighed his own years of experience. Barry had a passion for his work that Southworth had never had, even in his younger years on the job. Within a year, CSI Southworth had grown content to retreat to his office on the ground level of the precinct and allow his overly enthused assistant to have full reign of the lab upstairs, where he could do most of the forensic work himself. In no time at all, everyone in the precinct began to refer to it as Barry's lab, and they all knew that if they wanted forensic work done—and done well and in a decent period of time—they should bring it directly to Barry and _not_ to the head of CSI.

Singh had recently realized that Southworth's work was less than satisfactory and that he had completely fallen into the habit of passing on all of his real work to Barry. Upon this realization, Singh began gently but firmly pushing Southworth to finally retire. Thankfully, Southworth had finally gotten the hint and was now leaving the precinct.

Captain Singh had been considering multiple forensic scientists to take Southworth's place at the CCPD, but he was now starting to fully recognize and appreciate Barry's expertise in the field and was considering giving him the position as the head of the CSI department, despite his young age and chronic tardiness.

The kid had a lot of heart. He cared about his work, and it hadn't escaped Singh's notice how hard Barry had been working lately. Barry had long deserved the salary and authority of Southworth's position for years. In all actuality, Barry had already unofficially been acting as the director of forensics for a long time now. He deserved to have the position officially.

* * *

"Three…Two...One."

Iris's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Barry didn't even watch as Wally stacked the cups. He hardly heard their laughter. He felt like his mind was in a fog. He had been thinking about earth two—like always—when his mind had suddenly gone completely blank.

It was then that the nausea set in again, stronger than ever before. Barry hadn't thrown up yet. He hadn't thrown up since before he had become the Flash. Not once. Yet, he felt like he was going to now. It was more than just nausea. He felt like he was actually going to be sick. He shouldn't have eaten so much at dinner. He knew his stomach was sensitive right now. At the same time, though, Barry knew he had to keep his caloric intake up, and he also didn't want to appear rude by not eating with everyone else.

But now his stomach was churning, and he could almost feel the vomit rising in his throat. It took everything he had just to keep it down.

"Earth to Barry," Joe's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.

Barry's eyes refocused as he looked at him.

Joe was smiling at him, completely oblivious to Barry's chagrin.

"It's your turn, dude," he said, sliding the cups on the coffee table towards Barry, a carefree smile on his face.

"Yeah," Iris said, giving Barry a knowing smile, "It's time to show this little punk who the fastest stack attacker alive is."

The others laughed, but Barry couldn't get over the churning feeling in his gut.

"Why don't you guys go ahead," he said quickly, "I think I'm going to pass."

The smiles all fell from their faces, their laughter quickly dying out. Wally's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he gave Barry a calculating look.

"You're afraid of a little competition?" he asked, giving Barry a calculating look.

Despite his light tone, there was something else in Wally's tone. It wasn't just competitiveness. Wally was _challenging_ Barry—in more ways than one. Barry knew it. Wally knew it. The only ones who were oblivious to it were Joe and Iris. Before, it would have bothered Barry, Wally's obvious and _constant_ need to compete with him, but right now, Barry wasn't feeling well and didn't really have it in him to care about Wally's petty challenges.

"No," Barry shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, "Just not…in a gaming mood, right now."

He tried to keep his face and his words light and casual, but he could tell Joe and Iris saw right through it. They could tell something was up. Wally, however, clearly took it a different way. Like always, he thought Barry's withdrawn demeaner was directed towards him.

"Okay…well…" Wally said slowly, a slightly smug smile forming on his face, "I guess that makes me the champ."

Barry kept a tight smile fixed on his face, knowing Wally was intentionally trying to one-up him. He really didn't care who the stack attacker champ was right now, though. He was more preoccupied with trying not to vomit all over the carpet.

Also, he was twenty-six years old. He couldn't really find it in himself to care that much about the childish sibling rivalry Wally had created in his head. He was trying to get along with Wally, but Wally clearly had no interest in getting along with _him_ , let alone be his brother. This whole night was just a terrible idea from the start, and the timing of it couldn't have been any worse. Barry's head just wasn't in it.

A satisfied smirk on his face, Wally then stood up from the couch.

"Uh, anyway, I'm going to go meet up with some friends," he said quickly.

Joe nodded and stood up with him to pull him into a quick hug. Wally then hugged Iris, too, and Barry's stomach twisted horribly in his gut. When had he become the outsider? He knew Wally wasn't taking his place, but in this moment, it almost felt that way. It was just in Barry's head. He knew that. He hated it, though. He didn't hate _Wally_. He just hated the way Wally made him feel.

As if to make him feel worse, Wally then gave Barry this _look_. It was like Barry could see himself through Wally's eyes right now. He could see himself the way Wally saw him. Wally must have thought he was a total ass.

"Maybe next time," Wally said with a slight shake of his head before turning and leaving, the front door closing behind him.

Iris turned and smiled at Barry after Wally left.

"And I thought _you_ were the competitive one in the family," she teased lightly.

"Yeah, I know right," Joe said quietly, a thoughtful look on his face as he turned to Barry, "What's up, Bar?"

"Nothing," Barry mumbled with an easy shrug and a dismissive shake of his head.

He didn't need to give them reason to worry. It's not like he was sick. He _couldn't_ get sick. His nausea was simply the result of dwelling over earth two, and Barry certainly didn't want to talk about earth two right now. It was better to avoid the conversation entirely.

Joe saw right through him, though, and gave Barry a "no bullshit" expression. Barry knew then that he'd have to say something else to explain his odd behavior.

"I don't know," he sighed, "I don't think Wally likes me too much."

He looked curiously at the other two, gaging their reactions to the suggestion. They didn't deny it or reassure him that it wasn't true, like he had thought they were going to.

It was because they agreed with him.

"Well, we need to fix that," Joe said seriously, and it made Barry's stomach churn even more.

Barry didn't let his discontent show, though. He simply nodded as Joe continued.

"I mean, you've been so busy, running between alternate realities, you two haven't had a chance to spend any time together."

Barry didn't really know what to say to that.

"I mean," he shrugged, shaking his head questioningly, "What exactly do you want us to do together?"

As of now, Barry couldn't think of a single "bonding" activity he and Wally could do that would magically bring them closer and get Wally to stop seeing him as a total ass hat whom he had to compete with. To Wally, Barry was just this foreign attachment to their family—an extra person in the house, who he hadn't been expecting to be in the picture. Barry didn't really belong there, yet _he_ had grown up in Joe's house instead of Wally. He had taken Wally's place all these years. All because Barry's family had died. Barry was just Joe's charity case. To Wally, Barry was just an outsider he had to compete with. In Wally's eyes, Joe only had room in his heart for _one_ son, not two.

"Get to know each other," Iris said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "Find something that you guys have in common."

It was easy for _her_ to say. She had had no problem bonding with Wally. Iris wasn't the one Wally felt threatened by, though. Barry was. As if to pour salt in his wounds, Joe let out a heavy sigh and continued.

"He's part of the family now, Bar," he said seriously, as if _Barry_ was the one causing all the tension between them, "You're going to have to give it a chance."

Barry felt like he had been hit in the gut. It only added to the feeling that he was going to throw up. He could feel the vomit rising in his throat.

"I know," he managed to say, hoping his voice didn't sound too strained.

Maybe he _was_ the problem. Maybe Wally wasn't trying to compete with him at all. Maybe it was all in his head, and Barry was only imagining it that way. Maybe _he_ was the one trying to compete. He was the one who was feeling replaced.

His failures were already making him feel like he wasn't worthy of Joe's and Iris's love, and then Wally came along, and Joe and Iris were so taken with him. He was the good son. Barry was just the screw up. He had ruined too many things, made too many mistakes. It only made sense that Joe and Iris would be happy to have Wally come in and make up for all the things Barry couldn't be. Wally was the son Joe always wanted, the brother Iris never had.

He was their blood.

The thoughts made Barry's head spin, his nausea becoming overwhelming. He couldn't believe how his body was physically reacting to his thoughts. How could he be having such an intense physical response to stress? The room was starting to spin now, and within a matter of seconds, Barry broke out into a cold sweat.

"Barry?" Iris said, looking at him in concern, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed, "I just—"

Barry's sentence cut off as he felt all the blood drain from his face. He felt his stomach lurch menacingly, and he flashed out of the room in an instant. Within a single second, Barry went from the living room to the bathroom, where he proceeded to empty his contracting stomach.

"Barry?!" he heard Joe and Iris call from the living room.

It didn't take them long to find him. He hadn't even had time to close the bathroom door. Within a minute, the two of them were standing in the doorway, looking at him in confusion as he violently emptied his stomach into the toilet.

"What the…?" Joe said as he looked at Barry.

"S-sorry," Barry choked, his eyes watering as he hunched over the toilet bowl.

"Are you sick?" Iris asked worriedly, "How are you sick? You don't get sick."

"I'm fine," Barry groaned, "I just…"

He didn't know what to tell them. He didn't understand it, himself. This couldn't just be stress. There had to be something else wrong. Maybe he _was_ sick. Maybe he _could_ get sick, after all, and he was just finding out about it now. Maybe he had caught some weird virus on earth two—one that actually affected speedsters.

Joe knelt down and put a hand on Barry's forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "Actually, you feel kind of clammy. And you're white as a sheet."

"Guess I'm the white shadow, after all," Barry laughed weakly.

Joe and Iris frowned at him.

"You heard Wally say that?" Joe asked quietly.

Barry nodded, still gasping and trying to catch his breath as he reigned in his nausea.

"I was on my way over to help you give him a tour of the precinct," he told them, "When I heard that, though…"

"Oh, Barry," Iris said sadly, "You know Wally didn't really mean that. He was just joking."

"Yeah," Barry whispered unconvincingly.

He wiped his forehead and stood up from the floor then, swaying slightly. He quickly regained his balance, though.

"I feel better now," he lied, "I…I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"Are you sure?" Joe asked, "Maybe we should call Caitlin. It's not normal for you to get sick like this."

"I'm fine," Barry insisted, "I think I just ate too much at dinner. My body might need excessive amounts of calories, but my stomach can still only handle so much."

"You only ate half your dinner," Iris disputed, frowning at him.

"Yeah, but I had a calorie bar before that," Barry said immediately.

It wasn't a complete lie. He _had_ eaten half a calorie bar around noon. Granted, it was the _only_ thing he had eaten today. They didn't need to know that, though.

"Guys, I'm fine," Barry insisted, " _Really_."

They didn't look very convinced, though. They were both still frowning at him.

"I wish you had just _told_ us you were feeling sick," Joe sighed, "We would have understood. We wouldn't have made you sit through family game night."

"I wanted to be a part of it," Barry assured them, "And really, I wasn't feeling sick. It just hit me all of a sudden. I feel fine now, though. I'm just going to go to bed now. I'll go see Caitlin in the morning if it makes you feel better."

"Okay," Joe said softly, not entirely satisfied.

* * *

Barry had really only said he would go see Caitlin to get them off his back, but now he was starting to think it was probably a good idea. In fact, he probably would have gone to her sooner if the circumstances were different. Jay had just died right in front of her. Barry didn't really want to go to her and bother her when she was greiving just because his stomach was a little upset.

Now that he was _actually_ throwing up, though, he decided he couldn't put it off any longer. It was starting to become a problem, especially where his appetite was concerned. He had no choice but to bother her with it at this point.

"Do you feel nauseated _now_?" Caitlin asked him seriously, as she took his blood pressure.

"Not really," Barry replied, "I mean, my stomach's kind of churning a bit, but it's been like that for a few weeks."

"A few _weeks_?!" Caitlin said incredulously, "Why didn't you _tell_ me?!"

"Because I thought it was just from stress," Barry shrugged, "And from…guilt over what happened with…"

"Barry," Caitlin said sadly, "Jay's death was not your fault."

Barry sighed and looked down at his knees, his long legs dangling from the med bay examination table he was sitting on.

"My point is," he continued after a moment, "I didn't think there was anything _physically_ wrong with me. Now that I'm actually throwing up, though…"

"And this started right after you got back from earth two?" Caitlin frowned.

Barry nodded, and Caitlin looked thoughtfully at him for a moment.

"There _is_ a chance you picked something up when you went there," she said slowly, "Maybe the bacteria there is different or you caught a virus of some sort."

"That's what I thought," Barry nodded, "Actually, if you think about it. It's kind of like King Tut's tomb. Everyone in the twenties assumed it was cursed because almost all the excavators who opened it died within a few days. But actually they were killed by an ancient virus that had been sealed inside the tomb. It was just a normal flu virus, but because it was different from modern day viruses, their bodies weren't equiped to handle it. Maybe that's what it's like with earth two. People from earth one don't have the same antibodies."

"That makes sense, I guess," Caitlin said slowly, "But no one else who went to earth two is sick, Barry, and _your_ immune system should be a lot stronger than theirs."

"Maybe that's just it, though," Barry said slowly, thinking outloud, "The Spanish Influenza in the early 1900s killed mostly young, healthy males. It was because their immune systems were stronger and they had a more intense inflammatory response in their lungs, which ended up killing them. Sometimes, a strong immune system can work _against_ you."

"Like a ketone storm," Caitlin said, her eyes widening, "When the immune system is so effective, it starts attacking the _body_ along with the virus."

"Exactly," Barry nodded.

"I'm going to take a blood sample," Caitlin said urgently, "And I'll have to swab the back of your throat. I'm going to see if you have some sort of infection."

Barry nodded and held out his arm. He sat silently as Caitlin took all the samples she needed. However, he didn't just sit there and watch while she started analyzing them. He decided to help, pulling out a second microscope to look at his bood sample, himself, as Caitlin analyzed the throat culture she had gotten from him.

"I don't see any abnormal bacteria in the culture," she said looking through the lens of her microscope, "I'll have to let it inoculate overnight, though, to see what bacteria cultivates. The initial scan doesn't show any abnormal flora, though."

She looked up from her microscope then.

"Barry?"

Barry hardly heard her. He was busy looking at his blood sample.

"Barry, what is it?" she asked.

"I…" he said quietly, looking up from the microscope with a shocked look on his face, "I _am_ sick."


	2. Streaks of Scarlet

**Streaks of Scarlet**

* * *

"What did you see?" Caitlin asked urgently, moving over to Barry's microscope to look at his blood sample herself.

Barry didn't answer. He just stood there next to her as she looked through the lens.

"You're anemic," she said, finally looking up from the microscope, "You have hardly any red blood cells."

"But my _white_ blood cells are off the charts," Barry said seriously, "It _has_ to be an infection, right?"

Caitlin gave him an uneasy look.

"It could be," she said slowly, "I'll be able to tell you for sure tomorrow. But Barry, your red blood cells…"

"I know," he said quietly, "But that could be anything. It could just be because I haven't been eating enough."

"Barry," Caitliln said sadly, "Have you…have you been having any other symptoms? Besides the nausea and lack of appetite?"

Barry shook his head.

"I mean," he said in a strained voice, "I haven't been sleeping well, but that's more because of…earth two."

Caitlin gave him an uneasy look.

"What are you thinking, Caitlin?" Barry whispered.

"Barry," she said quietly, "Have you been having night sweats?"

"What?"

"Have you been waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat?"

"Y-yeah," he said, "But that's only because of the nightmares."

Caitlin bit her lip then as she looked at him.

"Have you had any nosebleeds?" she asked gently.

"Caitlin," Barry said seriously, knowing where she was going with this.

" _Have_ you?"

"No," he said honestly, "I haven't had a nosebleed since before I became the Flash."

"Okay," she nodded.

Her eyes flitted to his neck then.

"How are your lymph nodes?" she asked seriously.

"Caitlin," Barry said in a hard voice, "Don't. I know what you're thinking, and it's ridiculous. That can't be what's causing this."

"Let me feel your lymph nodes, Barry," she said quietly.

Barry sighed and rolled his eyes, tilting his chin so she could assess his lymph nodes. He stood there silently as her hands traced over his neck, gently pressing on his skin.

"They're swollen," she whispered, pulling her hands away from his neck.

"Also a symptom of infection," Barry pointed out.

"Do they feel tender?" Caitlin asked seriously, "Does it hurt when I touch them or when you swallow?"

"No."

Caitlin's expression grew more serious then.

"Barry," she said in a strained voice, "That's…not a good sign. If it were an infection, your lymph nodes would feel sore. They would feel swollen and soft. But yours…they feel hard, and they're nontender…"

"Caitlin," Barry said seriously, "If you're trying to scare me, consider yourself successful."

"Sorry," she said quickly, "I'm sorry, Barry. I'm not being a very good doctor, am I? I just…"

"There's no point in worrying until we know for sure what it is," Barry said firmly, "There's no bacteria in my blood, which is good—it means I'm not septic—but that doesn't mean there isn't a virus or bacteria in my throat culture. We'll find out tomorrow, after it inoculates."

"Okay," she said quietly, "In the meantime, I'll run a full blood panel."

Barry nodded, his expression growing serious.

"Please, don't say a word to anyone else about this," he said, "This has to stay between us until we know what's going on, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered.

* * *

It wasn't lying, not telling the others about what was going on. Really, Barry didn't know if _anything_ was going on. It could all just be in his head. Either way, not mentioning it certainly wasn't lying.

That changed, however, with one simple question from Joe over dinner that night.

"So, how did your appointment with Caitlin go?" he asked casually.

Barry looked up from his dinner plate, freezing at the question. After a moment, he cleared his throat and answered, speaking in a quiet voice.

"Fine," he mumbled, feeling his stomach churn with the lie, "She said everything was normal. Must have just been something I ate."

"Hey!" Iris said indignantly.

"No offense to your cooking," Barry laughed, "Like I said yesterday, it was probably just that I ate too _much_."

"So you're feeling better today then?" Joe pressed.

"Yeah," Barry lied, "I feel completely fine."

As if to prove his point, Barry then took a large bite of the cassrole Iris had made. It seemed to placate them.

"Where's Wally?" he asked then, strategically changing the subject.

"Out with friends," Joe sighed, "He's spending the weekend on campus."

"Probably getting into trouble," Iris added seriously.

"He's a college student," Joe shrugged.

"Seriously?!" Iris retorted, "Since when did you adopt such a passive parenting style? You were always Mr. Strict with me and Barry."

Joe just laughed.

"And that wasn't entirely unwarrented," he chuckled, "You two together gave me your fair share of trouble. I wasn't strict for no reason."

Barry hardly listened to Iris's retort to that. He had felt okay a moment ago, but now, suddenly, the room was spinning again, and the food he was chewing tasted like ash in his mouth. Barry took a sip of water to wash it down, but as he was lowering the glass, he noticed a single drop of red, mixing in with the water. Barry stared at it for a moment before quickly setting down the glass, reaching up to touch his face. He pulled his hand back to find his fingers coated in red.

His nose was bleeding.

Before Joe or Iris could notice, Barry quickly grabbed a napkin and pressed it to his face.

"Excuse me," he muttered, quickly rising from his seat.

He left the room before either of them could say anything, making his way to the bathroom as fast as he could without using his speed. Once Barry closed the door tightly behind him, he turned and looked into the mirror. Blood was flowing steadily from his nose.

He had a nosebleed. He actually had a nosebleed.

Barry tried not to panic—tried not to think about what Caitlin had been implying earlier. No. The air was dry, and he was dehydrated right now. Really, the Flash was just as susceptible to nosebleeds as anyone else. The only difference was that his speedhealing would cause it to stop sooner. When Barry pulled the tissue away from his face, however, it was still bleeding steadily.

It wasn't anything to worry about, though. Nosebleeds often looked scary and dramatic, but really, they weren't a big deal. If he really _did_ have some sort of infection, it could be causing his speed healing to be less efficient. It was just a virus. It wasn't…

Barry took a deep breath and tilted his head back, just wishing the bleeding would stop. He groaned internally when he heard a quiet tap on the door.

"Barry?" Joe's voice came through the door, "Are you okay? Did you get sick again?"

"No, I'm fine," Barry answered immediately, "Sorry, I bolted like that. I just couldn't hold it any longer."

Barry was surprised how convincing he managed to make his laugh sound.

"Okay," Joe said simply, "Sorry, just checking."

"I'll be out in a sec," Barry said in an easy voice, turning on the water to the sink.

The bleeding was starting to slow down now. Barry used a wet tissue to wipe all the blood from his face, and he was sure to bury the bloodied tissues in the waste basket so no one would see them. With one last check in the mirror, Barry finally left the bathroom, acting as if nothing had happened.

He made it through the rest of dinner without any problems, and Joe and Iris didn't seem to suspect anything was wrong. Really, nothing _was_ wrong. He was fine. Just because Caitlin happened to mention nosebleeds earlier and he had gotten one only a few hours later, it didn't mean anything. It was just a stupid coincidence.

As Barry was brushing his teeth before bed that night, however, he couldn't stop thinking about what the nosebleed might mean. Neither he nor Caitlin had actually said the word, but they had both been thinking it. Barry had thought the idea of it silly at first—he hadn't even considered it a possibility—but after Caitlin started asking all those questions about his symptoms…

No. He was fine. Everything was fine. One nosebleed didn't exactly mean he was on his death bed. He was being overdramatic about all this. So he had been feeling a little under the weather lately. That didn't mean it was something serious. For all he knew, he had a simple cold.

With that thought, Barry finished brushing his teeth and spat into the sink. He froze then, as he looked down at the white porcelain. There were now streaks of scarlet swirling down the drain. Barry's head flashed up then to look at his teeth in the mirror.

His gums were bleeding.

* * *

Caitlin sniffed and wiped her eyes. She had gone over her test results countless times, hoping she had made some sort of mistake.

She hadn't, though. She was sure of it.

How was she going to _tell_ him? She had delivered bad news to patients before, but Barry was more than just some patient. He was her friend. He was _Barry_. It seemed impossible that this could really be happening to someone like him. Caitlin didn't know how she could possibly tell him. She was still in shock from it herself.

Caitlin shakily pulled out her phone to scroll through her contacts until she came across "Barry Allen." She took a deep breath before finally hitting the call button, her stomach in knots as she listened to it ring.

"Hey, Caitlin," Barry answered after the third ring.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound normal and not too somber, "I was just wondering if you could come in after work today."

"Yeah, I was already planning to," Barry said casually, "How are my test results looking? Did you find anything abnormal in the throat culture?"

"Um…no, Barry," she said softly, "I didn't find any abnormal bacteria. I was hoping to run a few more tests today if that's alright."

"Yeah, sure."

It made Caitlin's heart clench to hear how casual and carefree he sounded. In a few hours, that would change. Obviously, she wasn't going to tell him over the phone. No one should ever hear something like this over the phone. She would tell Barry in person.

"Okay, I'll see you later, Barry," she said in a strained voice.

"See you," Barry said simply before ending the call.

Caitlin pulled the phone away from her ear with tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away when Cisco suddenly entered the room. It was too late, though. He had seen.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"I'm fine," she lied, "Just…just thinking of Jay. I'm alright, Cisco."

Really, this was the first time in weeks she had cried over something other than Jay. She missed him, sure, but right now, Jay was actually the last thing on her mind.

All her thoughts were for her sick friend.

* * *

The few hours that passed between their phone call and Barry walking into STAR Labs were both the shortest and the longest hours of Caitlin's life. Barry walked into the lab with a serious look on his face. He wasn't smiling, but at the same time, he didn't seem troubled. He thought he was just coming in for more tests. He didn't know the heavy news she was about to drop on him.

"So, you really didn't find _any_ sign of infection?" Barry asked seriously as they both settled in the med bay.

Caitlin closed the door behind her, making sure Cisco, Harry, or Jesse couldn't walk by and overhear them. She was trying to remain calm, not wanting to make this more horrible for Barry by freaking out in front of him, but as soon as she turned around and looked at him—at his curious, unsuspecting eyes staring at her—she couldn't help the tears that formed in her own.

"What's wrong?" Barry asked her immediately, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Barry," she said in a strained voice, trying to reign in her emotions, "I…I've gone over your blood panels multiple times."

Barry stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"And?" he whispered.

Caitlin sucked in a shaky breath, choking back the sob that was threatening to escape her. She just had to say it. Just get it over with. Beating around the bush would only make it worse.

"It's cancer, Barry."


	3. Anchor

**Anchor**

* * *

Barry felt like he had been punched in the gut. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he had heard her wrong. But he _did_ know better. He had almost known what Caitlin was going to say before she even said it. He just hadn't let himself think about it. Now that it had been said, though, he didn't know how to respond.

"Okay," he found himself whispering.

Caitlin gave him a strange look, her eyes filled with tears.

"Okay?"

"I…" Barry choked, "…okay."

"Barry," Caitlin said sadly, "Did you hear me?"

Barry nodded, his throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.

"I heard you," he whispered.

"Barry, I know this is a lot to take in," she choked, "But it's going to be okay."

"Okay," Barry whispered.

It was all that would come out of his mouth.

Caitlin opened and closed her mouth a couple times, but she didn't say anything else. Instead, she moved to pull Barry into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Barry felt numb, like he couldn't quite feel her arms around him. When they broke apart, Caitlin's tears had already spilled over. Barry's eyes, however, were completely dry.

"What kind of cancer is it?" he asked quietly.

Caitlin took a deep breath and wiped away her tears, trying to go back into doctor mode.

"The mutation seems to be in your blood," she said in a strained voice, "The vast majority of your blood cells are immature, not fully formed. It's why your normal red blood cells are so depleted and why your white blood cells are so elevated. They're multiplying uncontrollably."

"So, it's leukemia," Barry said calmly.

Caitlin nodded, taking a deep breath, as if willing herself not to cry any more.

"I can't say yet what type of leukemia it is yet," she said, "All I know is that it's malignant. I won't know any more until I do some further testing."

Barry nodded slowly.

"How advanced is it?" he whispered.

Caitlin shook her head.

"I'll have to take some scans and do more bloodwork before I can estimate that," she said quietly, "But the fact that it's symptomatic tells me you're at least a couple stages in."

Barry nodded.

"Okay."

Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed at him.

"Barry," she choked, "I…I feel like you're not really taking in what I'm saying."

"I heard you, Caitlin."

"You're handling this surprisingly well," she relented, " _Too_ well. Barry, it's okay to let yourself freak out a little."

"I'm fine," Barry said numbly, "I can handle this. Let's…let's just do whatever tests we need to do so we can figure out how to treat this."

"Barry, do you want me to call someone?" she asked tearfully, "Joe or Iris?"

Barry snapped out of his haze of calmness then.

"No," he said seriously, "Do _not_ call them, Caitlin."

"Barry, you shouldn't go through this alone," she said desperately, "You should have someone here with you while you process this."

"I'm processing it just fine," Barry said firmly, "I'm serious, Cait. Don't call them. I don't want them here right now. Right now, I just want to do whatever tests we need to do. I…I can't deal with telling them right now."

"Okay," Caitlin whispered, "We'll start with some scans then."

* * *

The scans weren't good. Caitlin couldn't tell him what kind of leukemia it was yet—not without doing a full biopsy—but Barry could tell from the look on her face when she looked over the scans that it wasn't good.

"How do my MRIs look?" Barry finally asked, after watching her look over the scans for a good ten minutes.

"I'll need some more time to look them over," Caitlin sighed, tucking the MRI images into a folder, "I'll be able to give you more accurate information tomorrow."

"They're bad, aren't they?" Barry asked flatly, "You wouldn't be having me wait till tomorrow if they were good."

Caitlin let out a shaky sigh and bit her lip.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Barry," she said sadly, "There were some abnormalities—things that weren't there before."

"Define 'things,'" Barry said seriously.

Caitlin sucked in a shaky breath.

"Tumors," she whispered.

Barry nodded and ran a hand over his face, taking a moment to breathe before speaking.

"Where?" he asked calmly, "Where are the tumors?"

"A couple different places," she answered vaguely, "Barry, if you just give me the night to look the scans over, I can give you much more concrete information tomorrow."

"Fine," Barry sighed tiredly.

Caitlin gave him a surprised look.

"Fine?"

"Yeah," Barry sighed, "I'll just come back tomorrow then."

Caitlin blinked at him, at a loss for words. Barry knew why. She had expected him to argue, to _insist_ that she tell him what was on the scans—to request to see them himself. Barry didn't want to see them, though. He didn't want to discuss this anymore. He was ready to be done with it for the day.

"Can I go home now?" he asked quietly.

Caitlin looked taken aback by the question.

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" she asked unsurely, "This is big news. You really shouldn't be alone right now, Barry."

"I won't be alone," Barry persisted, "Joe and Iris are there."

"Yeah, but they don't _know_ ," Caitlin said seriously, "Barry, you know you're going to have to tell them, right?"

Barry stared at her.

"I…I just need some time to think," he said in a strained voice.

"I understand," Caitlin said sadly, "But Barry…I don't know if I can allow you to proceed any further through this process without some emotional support."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to have to perform a biopsy tomorrow," she said sadly, "It's going to be…stressful and emotional. I can't, in good conscience, allow you to go through it without someone else there with you."

" _You'll_ be there," Barry pointed out, "You'll be with me the whole time."

"Barry, you know you can always count on me to support you," Caitlin said in a strained voice, "But I also have to be your _doctor_ right now. I'm going to try my best to be both for you, but you're also going to need someone else to step in and take on that role. You need an anchor."

Barry sighed and buried his face in his hands, not saying anything.

"Barry?" she asked gently.

Barry couldn't help it then. He finally started to cry. A small sob escaped his lips, his face still covered by his hands.

"Oh, Barry," Caitlin said sadly, sitting down next to him.

"I c-cant," Barry sniffed, not looking up from his hands, "I can't tell them. I can do whatever tests or treatments I need to do, but I can't tell them."

He looked up from his hands then, his eyes now bloodshot and watery.

"Please don't make me tell them, Caitlin," he choked, "I don't want to tell them. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do _any_ of this."

"I know, Barry," she said, tears quickly filling her eyes again as she watched him finally _react_ to the news she had given him, "I would give anything for this to not be happening to you right now. You don't deserve this. I know it's going to be hard, telling them that you're sick, but it's something you need to do. If it will help, I'll go with you. We can tell them together."

Barry shook his head.

"No," he sniffed, "I'll…I'll tell them. I'll tell Joe. I'll tell him tonight."

* * *

Barry knew he was stalling. He was procrastinating. He had been home for four hours now, and it was already ten o'clock. He should just get it over with. He should just tell Joe already.

Barry wasn't going to tell Iris yet. He knew she would be supportive, but she would also cry and start freaking out, and Barry couldn't handle dealing with her reaction right now. Joe's reaction would be a little easier to handle. He would be calmer about it, and that's what Barry needed right now. He needed someone to be calm about it.

Caitlin had been calm, yes, but for a doctor, she had been surprisingly emotional about the whole thing. Barry knew that it was just because he was more than just a patient to her—he was her friend—but her emotions hadn't exactly helped him much. No one ever wants to see their doctor cry when they're delivering bad news. Her tears had made the whole thing seem so much more serious, and it didn't exactly invoke much confidence.

Barry knew Joe would get emotional, too, but he was a cop. He was good at controlling his emotions and staying calm in stressful situations. Joe could handle it. After Iris went to bed around nine, though, Barry didn't immediately tell Joe. A whole hour had passed since Iris had retreated upstairs, but Barry still hadn't told him. He didn't really know _how_ to tell him.

 _Hey, Joe. Guess what? I found out I have cancer today. I need you to come with me tomorrow while Caitlin performs a biopsy on me._

There really was no good way to say it. There were several moments when Barry opened his mouth to try to start the conversation, but he didn't know what to say, so he'd clam up again. He and Joe were currently both washing dishes—Joe washing while Barry dried them and put them away. Now was the perfect time to start a conversation, but Barry couldn't get any words to leave his mouth.

"What _is_ it, Bar?" Joe suddenly asked in exasperation, handing Barry the last dish to dry.

Barry gave him a confused look.

"You obviously want to talk to me about something," Joe laughed, shaking his head, "You have the same look on your face that you did when you were trying to tell me you and Iris crashed my car in high school."

Barry didn't laugh, though. He let out a heavy sigh as he put the last dish away. When he turned back to Joe, he opened his mouth again, but no words came out. He clamped it shut again in frustration.

"What is it, Bar?" Joe asked seriously, the smile sliding from his face now.

Clearly, he could tell that whatever Barry wanted to tell him was serious.

"Can we sit down?" Barry asked quietly, pointing toward the table.

Joe nodded, furrowing his eyebrows at him as they both moved to sit at the dining room table.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, a hint of fear in his voice now.

Barry sighed and buried his head in his hands. He knew he was just dragging this out, making it worse for Joe, but finding the words was so _hard_.

"I lied," he found himself saying through his hands.

"What?" Joe asked, frowning at him in confusion.

"I lied to you," Barry said, looking up from his hands, "Yesterday, when you asked me how my appointment with Caitlin went…I lied."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked quietly, "What did you lie about?"

"I said Caitlin told me everything was fine," Barry said in a strained voice, "But that wasn't true. She actually was running a few tests, and I went back in to see her again today for a follow up."

Joe's eyes widened as he took in Barry's words.

"And?" he asked worriedly, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Barry assured him, "Caitlin got the test results, and we figured out what's wrong with me. I…I really _am_ fine, Joe, so I need you to promise not to freak out on me. Please don't make a big deal about it."

"What is it, Bar?" Joe demanded seriously, "What did Caitlin find?"

Barry sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"She found an abnormality in my blood cells," he said, beating around the bush, "There's just a slight mutation in my leukocytes, and it's causing them to multiply at an accelerated rate, causing a decrease in my red blood cells and platelets."

"Okay," Joe frowned, "Can you please tell me what that means in English, Bar?"

Barry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"It's…it's cancer, Joe," he whispered.

Joe's face didn't change. He didn't say anything. He just stared at him.

"W-what?" he finally whispered.

"Please don't freak out," Barry said quickly, "Don't make a bigger deal out of it than it is. Caitlin's going to treat it, and everything's going to be fine."

"You have cancer?" Joe asked numbly, his face portraying nothing but shock.

"Technically, yes," Barry said in a strained voice, "But I'm going to be fine, Joe. Caitlin is an excellent doctor and—"

"B-barry," Joe choked, putting a hand over his mouth.

Tears rapidly started to fill his eyes.

"Joe, please," Barry begged, his own eyes starting to well up upon seeing Joe's reaction, "Please, don't cry. I'm going to be fine."

"Barry, you have _cancer_ ," Joe choked, keeping a hand clasped over his mouth.

He looked like he was going to be sick.

"Joe," Barry said, his voice cracking, "Please, I need you to stay calm about this."

Joe shook his head and didn't say anything. Instead, he stood up and moved to give Barry a bone-crushing hug. Barry hugged him back and buried his face in Joe's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Joe choked, "I'm sorry, Bar. I'm trying to hold it together for you."

They pulled apart, and Joe wiped a few tears from his face.

"But this is a lot to take in."

"I know," Barry said softly, "I understand. I'm sorry, Joe."

"You don't have to _apologize_ ," Joe said incredulously, holding back sobs, "I just… _God_ , Bar. Cancer."

"It's just a word, Joe," Barry reasoned, "It could mean a lot of things. It might not even be that serious."

"You don't know how serious it is?" Joe asked tearfully.

Barry shook his head.

"Caitlin's looking over my MRIs tonight. She's going to discuss it with me tomorrow, and she's…she's going to do a biopsy."

"What do you mean?" Joe choked, "What do you mean by biopsy?"

"She needs a sample," Barry explained, "She needs a sample of my bone marrow, so she can figure out what kind of cancer it is. All we know is that it's leukemia, but we don't know what type of leukemia or how progressed it is."

"Leukemia," Joe whispered, still in shock.

He shook his head then.

"But you're the Flash," he said desperately, "You can't get _cancer_!"

"I can," Barry said sadly, "My cells are already mutated, Joe. That's technically what cancer is. It's a mutation of cells. The only difference is that this specific mutation didn't give me powers. It gave me… _this_ instead."

"What _caused_ it?" Joe asked seriously.

Barry shook his head. He had an idea, but it wasn't something he was _ever_ going to voice out loud—not unless they knew for sure.

"I don't know," he lied quietly, "Maybe Caitlin will have an idea, but…it could be any number of things."

Joe put a hand over his mouth again.

"Barry," he choked.

"I'm going to be fine," Barry said again, "Caitlin knows what she's doing. I'm going in for my biopsy at ten tomorrow. She…she wanted someone to come with me."

"Of course," Joe said immediately, taking Barry's hand, "I'll be there. I'll go with you, Bar."

Barry gave Joe's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, Joe."

As hard as it was to tell Joe, Barry felt slightly better, having him know. It strangely helped take some of the weight of it off him. It made the news a little easier to bear. Barry hadn't expected that. He had expected it all to seem so much worse, having Joe know about it, but it didn't. It actually felt good to have someone else there to support him.

Someone to be his anchor.


	4. The Eighth Chromosome

**The Eighth Chromosome**

* * *

The car was silent as they drove to STAR Labs in the morning. They were a half hour early—Joe was anxious to leave the house and get to Barry's appointment—but they assumed Caitlin wouldn't mind if they were early. Sure enough, when they got there, she was ready for Barry, as if she had been expecting them to arrive at that time.

"How are you doing, Barry?" she asked sadly when they walked into the cortex.

"I'm fine," Barry assured her firmly, "I just want to get this over with."

Caitlin nodded in sympathy. Joe stepped forward then to address the doctor.

"How serious is this, Caitlin?" he asked gravely.

He had stayed up late, researching leukemia on the internet, filling his mind with worst-case scenarios and medical information he didn't fully understand but knew enough about to be terrified out of his mind for Barry. Joe had been up all night, tossing and turning as he thought of questions to ask Caitlin. He had barely slept, and judging by the shadows under his eyes, neither had Barry.

"I won't know that until I analyze his biopsy," Caitlin said, not looking him in the eye.

Joe instantly got the feeling there was something she wasn't telling them.

"Barry said you were analyzing some scans," he persisted, "What did you find?"

Joe was a trained observer, which was why he didn't miss the way Caitlin winced slightly at his words, her eyes turning down to the floor.

"I'll discuss that with you two after the biopsy," she said softly.

"I'd rather discuss it now," Joe replied, crossing his arms.

"Joe," Barry sighed tiredly, "I'd rather just get this over with first. We can discuss the rest after."

Joe looked over at Barry then. He was looking at the floor, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Joe figured he knew why. Barry wasn't very eager to go over his test results. He didn't _want_ to know what Caitlin had found. Joe, however, was on edge. He didn't want to wait.

But he respected Barry's wishes. He was the one who was sick, and if he wanted to wait until after his procedure, then Joe would do that. He'd do whatever Barry wanted. Anything to make this easier for him.

"Is anyone else here?" Barry asked, nervously looking around.

"No," Caitlin assured him, "Harry and Jesse are apartment shopping, and Cisco doesn't usually come in on Saturdays."

"Okay," Barry said quietly.

"Here, Barry," Caitlin said, handing him a hospital gown, "You can change in the bathroom if you want."

Barry looked down at the gown in his hands.

"Do I have to wear this?" he asked reluctantly.

"Just for today," Caitlin said, giving him a sympathetic look, "I'll be extracting the marrow from your hip. It'll be easier if you're wearing a gown."

Barry nodded silently and reluctantly made his way over to the bathroom then, gown in hand. As soon as the bathroom door was closed, Joe immediately spun on Caitlin.

"What aren't you telling us?" he demanded.

Caitlin looked sadly back at him.

"Joe," she said in a strained voice.

"Please," he choked, "I know Barry wants to wait until after this, but I need to know now. What do his scans look like?"

Caitlin opened and closed her mouth a couple times, no words escaping her.

"They're bad, aren't they?" Joe asked sadly.

Caitlin took a deep breath and then nodded.

"Yeah," she whispered, "Yeah, they're bad. I knew they were bad as soon as I first saw them yesterday. I just…I didn't want to scare Barry. I didn't want to tell him until after this procedure."

"Is he going to be okay?" Joe choked, his voice cracking.

Caitlin gave him a somber look.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to treat him, Joe," she assured him, "We'll get him through this."

Joe nodded and wiped his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered, "And thank you…for this. For today. I know I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for you. Thank you for urging Barry to tell me. Knowing him, he would have kept it a secret as long as possible."

Caitlin nodded sadly.

"Yeah," she sighed, "You're right. That's what he initially wanted to do. I told him he needed to tell at least one person, though, and…I think he chose you because he knew you'd be able to handle it. I know how hard it is, trying not to fall apart, but for Barry's sake, we really need to keep it together right now. Staying calm is key to making this easier on Barry right now. I think he's still in shock from the news."

"So am I," Joe sighed, "I…I never thought something like this could happen to Barry, and not just because he's the Flash. He's… _Barry_."

"No one ever expects this to happen to someone they love," Caitlin said understandingly.

Joe nodded and wiped his eyes again.

"This procedure," he said then, "This…biopsy. What should I expect?"

"It's going to be painful," Caitlin warned, "Bone marrow biopsies are already painful, even _with_ anesthetics, but with Barry's metabolism…"

"You really can't give him anything?" Joe asked desperately.

"I have a local anesthetic for him," Caitlin said quickly, "But it's not going to help very much. Hopefully it'll help a little, but I'm really just hoping it'll have more of a placebo effect than anything else. I'm going to be honest with you. This is just the beginning. As Barry moves into treatment, his immunity to pain killers is going to continue to be a problem. I'm going to do everything in my power to make things as easy on him as possible, but this isn't going to be pretty."

Joe felt a twisting feeling in his gut with her words. Before he could say anything, though, Barry emerged from the bathroom, wearing the hospital gown. He gripped the hem of it awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. Caitlin gave him an encouraging smile and ushered him to the med bay. Barry sighed as he sat on the cushioned examination table, his long legs hanging over the edge.

"Okay, Barry," Caitlin said gently, "I'm going to have you laying on your side, and I'll be extracting the marrow sample from your hip bone. It's a fairly simple procedure, and—"

"I know how bone marrow is extracted," Barry said softly.

Caitlin pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Can you lay on your side for me, Barry?" she asked gently then.

Barry complied, laying down on the table, on his side so that he was facing away from the doctor. Joe quickly moved around the table so that he was standing on the side Barry was facing. He took Barry's hand gently in his own and gave him a supportive smile. Barry's lips twitched gratefully in return.

"Okay, Barry," Caitlin said softly, as she untied the back of his gown, "Could you draw your knees up towards your chest, please?"

Barry sighed and pulled his knees up so that he was positioned in a way that resembled the fetal position. He looked so small. It broke Joe's heart to see the man he had always known to be so strong suddenly looking so small and vulnerable. The ache in his heart lingered as Joe watched Caitlin pull out her supplies. Barry flinched slightly when she started cleansing the expanse of skin on the back of his hip, but his expression remained calm.

Joe's gut wrenched when he saw the doctor pull out a large syringe, and the feeling worsened when Barry chose the exact wrong moment to look back at what she was doing.

"Woah, that's a big needle," Barry breathed, facing forward again.

Joe gave his hand a small squeeze.

"It's just a local anesthetic," Caitlin explained, exchanging a knowing look with Joe, "It should help keep the pain to a minimum."

"Won't my metabolism burn right through it?" Barry asked immediately.

"No, Barry," Caitlin said, exchanging another sad look with Joe, "It…it's extra potent. It should help with some of the pain."

Joe and Caitlin both knew that to be untrue, but they were both hoping it would help put Barry's mind at ease.

"Okay, Barry," Caitlin said, holding the needle a couple inches away from his hip, "You're just going to feel a slight pinch."

Joe didn't watch her slide the needle into him. Instead, he watched Barry's face, rubbing small circles into the back of his hand. Barry suddenly hissed in pain, squeezing Joe's hand.

"Sorry," Caitlin said regretfully, withdrawing the needle, "Hopefully, that will help, though."

Joe didn't watch as she started pulling out the rest of her tools. Instead, he looked at Barry, who looked up and gave him a small smile.

"I'm fine," he whispered reassuringly.

Joe smiled sadly at him and gave his hand a small squeeze.

"Okay, I'm going to start now, Barry," Caitlin said, her voice somber, "It's just a small incision."

"Okay," Barry whispered, his eyes still on Joe.

Joe could see it in Barry's eyes then. Barry knew they were lying to him. He knew the pain killers weren't going to work for him. He was just going along with the charade to placate them. All three of them knew the truth, but they all played along with the pretense.

Joe couldn't look at what Caitlin was doing. He wasn't really the type to get woozy at the sight of blood, but he didn't want to risk it. The last thing they needed right now was for him to pass out or throw up. Barry sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut when Caitlin made the cut. He squeezed Joe's hand harder, just hard enough to hurt.

"You're doing good, Barry," Caitlin praised, setting down her scalpel, "I'll be going into the bone next. Do you want a small break first?"

"No," Barry gritted, opening his eyes, which were now watering, "Just get it done—b-before the incision heals."

"Alright," Caitlin whispered.

Joe chose the wrong moment to look over at what the doctor was doing. Caitlin had a small screw-like instrument, and she was getting ready to screw it into Barry's hip bone. Joe thought he was going to be sick as he quickly looked back at Barry again.

"Ah," Barry gasped when Caitlin started.

His eyes squeezed shut again, and this time, he _crushed_ Joe's hand. Joe rubbed Barry's arm with his free hand while letting Barry squeeze the other one as hard as he needed to. He thought his hand was about to break, but he didn't let go of Barry's. Barry didn't scream. He didn't cry or yell out. He kept his mouth clamped shut, just like his eyes, and his face was quickly turning red.

"Breathe, Barry," Joe coaxed gently when he realized Barry was holding his breath, "You're doing good, son. Just breathe."

Barry sucked in a strained breath, and when he released it, a small whine escaped his lips. Joe had seen Barry hurt on more than a few occasions before, but Barry had always been very good about not making any sound. He always internalized his pain. If he was making sound now, the pain of the procedure must have been significant.

"Almost done, Barry," Caitlin choked.

Joe's eyes snapped up to the doctor then to see that she was crying. Caitlin was crying as she worked on Barry, knowing how much pain she was causing him. Joe could see now why Caitlin wanted Barry to have another person here for this. He couldn't even imagine going through it alone.

"What the hell?!"

Joe's head spun to look over at the doorway, where Cisco was suddenly standing behind Caitlin, staring at the wound on Barry's hip with wide eyes.

"Are you taking his _bone marrow_?!" he asked incredulously before anyone could say anything.

"Cisco, get out!" Barry shouted, tears streaming down his face.

He kept facing forward, not even looking over his shoulder to see Cisco as he shouted at him. He couldn't move. He just kept his eyes squeezed shut as he yelled in anguish.

"Get out of here! Please!"

Cisco looked at Joe in confusion, and Joe gave him a small shake of the head.

"Sorry, Cisco," he said gently, "We'll explain it to you later. You should go."

Cisco opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly confused and lost for words. Finally, he just nodded, and with one last glance at the procedure he had walked in on, he left the room, an ill and confused look on his face.

Joe turned back to Barry then, who was gasping for breath, a few tears escaping his eyes.

"He wasn't supposed to be here," he choked, a small sob escaping his lips.

"It's okay, Barry," Joe soothed, rubbing his arm, "Don't worry about it, it's alright. Just try to calm down. We're almost done now."

Barry didn't say anything. He kept his eyes squeezed shut and continued to crush Joe's hand. Caitlin quickly resumed the procedure, but Joe didn't pay any attention to what she was doing. He focused solely on rubbing Barry's arm and whispering soothing words of encouragement in his ear.

"Done," Caitlin said quietly after what felt like an eternity, "The hard part's over, Barry."

Joe caught a glimpse of the specimen container she was sealing and putting on ice, but he quickly looked back at Barry again when it made his stomach churn.

"All done," Joe soothed, his voice cracking, "We're done. You did so good, Bar."

It had been so much worse than he had been expecting. Joe hoped to God there wouldn't be any more procedures like this. Barry was strong enough to handle it, but Joe didn't think _he_ was strong enough to witness it.

Barry blearily opened his eyes, and his grip on Joe's hand finally loosened. His hand slid from Joe's and Barry quickly used it to wipe his eyes.

"Good," he breathed.

He was clammy and pale now, and his hands were shaking horribly as he wiped the tears and sweat from his face. Caitlin was quick about stitching and dressing the wound on Barry's hip, and although Barry gritted his teeth the entire time, he seemed to endure the pain better than the actual procedure.

"Good job, Barry," Caitlin said sadly, as she retied the back of his hospital gown, "You can relax now. You can rest."

Barry nodded weakly, but he didn't move. He just stayed in the side-lying position he was in and closed his eyes.

"Should we move him to the bed?" Joe whispered unsurely to the doctor then.

Caitlin shook her head.

"He's going to be very sore," she said sadly, "Best not to move him too much. There are pillows and blankets in the cupboard there. Do what you can to make him more comfortable. I'm going to…"

She awkwardly held up the specimen container.

"Go," Joe said, understanding, "I'll take care of him. Go, start analyzing it."

Caitlin nodded, and with one last sad look at Barry, she left the room. Joe turned back to Barry then. He was still lying in the same position, his knees pulled up to his chest. It didn't look at all comfortable to Joe, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he went over to the cupboard and started pulling out pillows and a blanket.

Barry didn't move or say anything as Joe slid a pillow under his head and propped one behind his back before covering him up. He kept his eyes closed, completely exhausted from the procedure. Joe thought Barry was asleep, but he was surprised when Barry suddenly spoke.

"Joe," he muttered, his eyes still closed.

"I'm right here, Bar," Joe whispered, taking his hand, "It's okay. I'm right here."

"Joe, Cisco's going to know now," he mumbled.

"It's alright," Joe choked, "Cisco will be fine. Just worry about yourself right now. Okay?"

Barry nodded tiredly.

"Thank you," he muttered, "For being here."

"Of course, Bar," Joe choked, "I'll always be here for you."

* * *

"What the hell was that?!" Cisco demanded as soon as Caitlin stepped into the cortex, "You're analyzing his bone marrow now?! I understand wanting to research blood samples from him, but Caitlin, this is sick! This is going _way_ too far! I can't believe Barry _agreed_ to this! I can't believe what I just saw!"

"Cisco," Caitlin said sadly, walking over to her microscope, "This isn't what you think it is. It's not just about research."

"What is it then?" Cisco asked in confusion, "What's going on that would cause you to screw a giant corkscrew into Barry's bone? That was one of the sickest things I've ever seen!"

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh.

"I didn't want to do it," she said sadly, "But I had to."

"Why?" Cisco demanded.

Caitlin looked at him with tearful eyes.

"Barry's sick, Cisco," she said softly.

The outrage left Cisco's face then and became a look of concern.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, "What do you mean, Barry's sick?"

Caitlin took a deep breath and let it out shakily.

"He…" she choked, "He has cancer. Barry has leukemia."

Cisco stared at her.

"That's not funny," he said seriously, "That…that's not funny, Caitlin."

"You really think I'd joke about something like that?" Caitlin asked, her voice cracking.

Cisco's hand slowly moved up to cover his mouth as he began to grasp what Caitlin was telling him.

"How?" he choked, "How can he…?"

"I have a few theories," Caitlin said softly, "But I won't know much until I finish analyzing this."

She held up the specimen container with shaky hands.

"How can I help?" Cisco asked urgently, glancing back towards the closed door to the med bay, "Should I…?"

"I don't know if going in there is the best idea, Cisco," she said sadly, "Barry's exhausted and upset. He didn't want you to find out that way."

"He's my best friend," Cisco choked, tears in his eyes, "If he's sick, I want to be there for him. He seriously wasn't going to _tell_ me?"

"He just found out yesterday," Caitlin said solemnly, "He's still processing it. We still don't know much about it. That's what this sample was for."

"How long will it take you to analyze it?" Cisco asked urgently, looking at the cup in her hand.

"A few hours," she said uncertainly, "It depends on what I find."

"What am I supposed to do?" Cisco persisted, "What am I supposed to do for the next few hours, Caitlin? I just want to help. I'm no doctor, so I can't help _you,_ and Barry doesn't want me in the room, so what can I…?"

Caitlin gave him a sympathetic look.

"You could find a wheelchair for him," she suggested, "He shouldn't be walking around for the rest of today until he heals. A wheelchair would be a big help."

"Okay," Cisco said seriously, glad he could help, even if it was in a small way, "I'll charge the one he used when Zoom broke his—"

"Actually," Caitlin said uneasily, "I don't think that's a good idea. Barry's struggling with this a lot right now, and I don't think he could bear going back into Wells' chair again. It was hard enough convincing him to use it the first time. I think we have some standard chairs downstairs somewhere."

"Okay," Cisco nodded, "Good idea."

Having something to do helped tremendously. Cisco had just had a bomb dropped on him. His best friend had cancer. Barry had cancer. The shock of it hadn't worn off, and Cisco didn't know what to do. He wanted to instantly spring into action. He wanted to fix this immediately. There wasn't anything he could do, though. He could find a wheelchair. It was such a little help, but it was something. Being able to do something, no matter how small, helped ease the sense of helplessness Cisco was now feeling.

He just wished he could do more.

* * *

"Barry, you should lay down a little longer," Joe urged, "Caitlin's still analyzing the sample. You should use this time to rest."

"I slept for an hour already," Barry said stubbornly, "I feel fine, and I don't want to just lay here all day, so please, just help me sit up."

Joe let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay," he said reluctantly, "We'll get you into a wheelchair."

"I don't need a wheelchair," Barry insisted, "I'm fine."

"Barry, you can't even sit up by yourself," Joe pointed out.

Barry was still laying on his side on the examination table. He had tried to sit up twice already, but the pain in his hip didn't allow for much mobility.

"Fine," Barry sighed after a moment, "I'll go back in the chair."

Joe nodded sadly at him. He knew Barry would have a hard time with the chair. He had obviously hoped he would never have to use it again after his spine healed.

"Is it okay if I bring Cisco in here?" Joe asked quietly.

Barry gave him an uneasy look at these words. He opened and closed his mouth once but didn't say anything before nodding and looking down.

"I guess I have to face him eventually," he sighed.

Joe nodded sadly and then made his way to the door. As he stepped out into the cortex, it was to find Caitlin still there, still hunched over her microscope. Cisco was only a few feet away from her, tinkering with a wheelchair, tightening the bolts on each wheel. Joe was surprised to see it was just a standard wheelchair and not the electric one Barry had used before. He supposed it made sense, though. It wasn't as practical, but it would be easier for Barry to get into—emotionally speaking.

"Is Barry awake?" Caitlin asked him when he entered the cortex.

"Yeah," Joe sighed, "He just woke up, and he's anxious to get up. I was going to get a chair for him, but it looks like Cisco has it covered."

"Is he okay?" Cisco asked worriedly, "I'm so sorry for walking in like that. I know that's not how Barry wanted me to find out about this. Really, I'm okay, though. I'm just worried about him."

"He _is_ upset," Joe admitted, "But it's better that you know. Really, the sooner _everybody_ knows, the better."

Cisco nodded sadly.

"Can I help?" he asked quietly, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Joe nodded.

"Come on," he said quietly, gesturing toward the room.

* * *

Cisco followed nervously as Joe entered the med bay, Cisco pushing the wheelchair in through the doorway after him. He looked over at the bed as soon as he walked in, shuddering slightly as he thought of what he had walked in on the last time he walked through that door.

Barry was still laying on his side, the same way he had been before. As Cisco rounded the bed with Joe and came into his line of sight, Barry gave him an uneasy look.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry for shouting at you. I'm so sorry you found out the way you did."

"Don't worry about it, man," Cisco said, pulling a smile up onto his face, even though smiling was the last thing he felt like doing right now, "I got you a chair. Not as high tech as the last one, but you can do some pretty sick wheelies on this bad boy."

It worked. Barry's lips twitched into a small smile at these words.

"Thanks, Cisco," he said tiredly, both of them knowing the real reason why he was thanking him.

Barry had been clearly dreading getting back into Wells' chair.

"Alright, Bar. You ready?" Joe asked, pulling the covers from Barry.

Barry nodded, and Joe gently slid a hand under him to help lift his upper half from the bed. Barry's bare legs slid over the side of the bed, and he hissed in pain as he was brought to an upright sitting position.

It was weird seeing Barry like this—weak and frail, wearing a hospital gown. Cisco hadn't seen him look like this since the coma. Barry hadn't been his friend at the time, though, so this time, it was so much harder to witness.

"Can you help me with my pants?" Barry asked Joe, blushing deeply, "I can get my shirt."

"Of course, Bar," Joe said softly, grabbing Barry's clothes for him.

Cisco watched somberly as Joe helped Barry slide his legs into a pair of jeans. Barry took care of his shirt himself, and then Cisco moved to help Barry as he stood up, so Joe could pull his jeans the rest of the way up. Barry was extremely unsteady as he stood. He noticeably favored one side, shifting most of his weight towards Cisco as Joe finished pulling up Barry's jeans for him. Cisco could feel Barry shaking as he stood, and his breathing was a little more strained, his breath hitching in pain.

Together, Cisco and Joe helped turn Barry and eased him down into the chair. Barry let out a relieved sigh as soon as he was sitting, but Cisco could still see the pain in his eyes as he tried to get comfortable in the chair.

"I'm fine," Barry assured, when he saw the worried looks both men were giving him, "I'm just a little sore. I'll be healed in a few hours, though."

"Actually, Caitlin said it might take the night," Joe said gently.

Barry's eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh," he said, "I guess that makes sense. My healing is a little slowed right now. I'll be fine, though. This is only temporary."

Joe and Cisco both gave him sad smiles. They all knew this was only the start. It wouldn't be over after this, but hopefully things wouldn't get too bad before Barry was cured. It all depended on what Caitlin found.

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait much longer to find out. Twenty minutes later, Caitlin reentered the med bay, a blank look on her face. They all immediately recognized the look for what it was. It was her doctor face, the one she used when she was trying to control her emotions.

"What did you find, Caitlin?" Barry asked as soon as she walked into the room, "Did you figure out the subtype?"

Caitlin nodded sadly.

"Sort of," she said softly, "It's not like any type of cancer I've seen before. It seems to be unique to your specific physiology, but it's presentation closely resembles acute myeloid leukemia, with translocation of your…eighth chromosome."

Barry's eyes darkened at these words.

"My eighth?" he asked quietly.

Caitlin nodded, tears quickly filling her eyes.

"It's not a coincidence," she choked, "I…I'm so sorry, Barry."

Barry looked down at his lap, sucking in a shaky breath.

"What are you talking about?" Joe frowned, looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion, "What's not a coincidence?"

Cisco was just as confused. He didn't know much medicine, and he didn't know what was so significant about that particular chromosome.

"It's the same," Barry said quietly, "It's the same chromosome that was mutated and gave me my powers. It was affected by the…"

"The particle accelerator," Cisco breathed, "Oh, my God."

"Wait," Joe said seriously, waving a hand, "Are you saying…?"

"We caused it," Caitlin said in a strained voice, "We caused the mutation that's making Barry sick."

A shocked silence hung over the group. No one knew what to say. Joe was beyond words as he processed what they were telling him, and Cisco and Caitlin couldn't even look at Barry. Both their stomachs were churning horribly.

"How?" Joe then managed to say, the word coming out short and clipped as he stared Cisco and Caitlin down, "How did the particle accelerator…?"

"The accelerator caused multiple mutations in different people," Caitlin explained shakily, "It's likely that when Barry's DNA was altered by the explosion, it was also damaged. It was mutated in multiple ways. And this…this was one of them."

She glanced at Barry then, who was staring at the floor, a sickened look on his face.

"Barry," she choked, tears welling in her eyes, "I don't even know what to say. I can't begin to tell you how sor—"

"Caitlin," Barry said firmly, finally looking up at her as he rearranged his facial expression, "I know you didn't mean for this to happen, _any_ of this. I forgave you both for the particle accelerator a long time ago, and I still forgive you now. Nothing's changed."

"Barry, we gave you _cancer_ ," Cisco choked, tears welling in his eyes, "It's not the same thing as us accidentally giving you superpowers. We made you _sick_. It's okay to be upset with us. It's okay to be angry."

"You made a mistake," Barry said firmly, "Thawne used you. He's the one to blame in all this. Besides, I've made more than my fair share of mistakes. I _understand_ and I _forgive_ you. Please, let's not dwell on this. How I got it doesn't matter. Let's just figure out how to treat it."

"You don't seem surprised," Caitlin said quietly, giving him a sad look.

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"I can't say that I am," he said softly, "The thought _did_ cross my mind. I was hoping it wouldn't be the case, but the fact that it is doesn't change anything. In fact, it _helps_ us. We know the cause now, and we know how long I've had it for. This is a _good_ thing."

Caitlin nodded and wiped her eyes.

"You're right," she said shakily, "At least we have more information about it. We know now that you've had it for two years."

"How is it that we're just catching it now, though?" Joe asked, somewhat angrily, "How could Barry have had cancer for two years without us knowing?"

He hadn't said anything about the new information they had just revealed, but his face said it all. He didn't forgive them as easily as Barry did.

"I don't know," Caitlin said honestly, "If it had been active, I would have caught it a long time ago. It wasn't in his blood a few weeks ago. It was dormant in his bone marrow, something I've never looked at before, for obvious reasons. It would have been too painful to take a sample for no reason. It's strange, though. This type of cancer is known to progress quickly, and it seems to be progressing quickly now that's it's in its active stage. If he's had it for two years, it should have presented itself a long time ago."

"So why now?" Cisco asked, "Why is it making its appearance now?"

"That's something I'm still trying to figure out," Caitlin said seriously, "It's likely it has something to do with earth two, though. That's when his symptoms seemed to start."

"How bad is it?" Barry asked quietly, "I'm only a few weeks into the active stage, so it can't be that bad, right?"

Caitlin gave him a sad look. She let out a shaky sigh before explaining.

"This type of cancer starts in the bone marrow," she said, "The marrow is responsible for creating new blood cells and platelets. For a normal person, it takes a long time for the mutated cells to build up in the blood stream enough to cause symptoms. But for you…your body produces blood cells at a much faster rate. It only took a few weeks."

"So, what are you saying?" Joe asked quietly.

"I'm saying Barry's cancer is advancing at a much faster rate than a normal person's would," Caitlin said tearfully.

"What…?" Barry choked, "What stage am I in?"

Caitlin's lip trembled slightly as she answered him.

"Stage three," she whispered.

Barry paled immediately. He took in a shuddering breath and buried his face in his hands.

"Barry," Caitlin said quickly, putting her hands on his shoulders, "Barry, Barry, it's okay. We're going to treat it."

"What does stage three mean?" Joe choked, "What does that mean, Caitlin?"

Caitlin stoop up straight and wiped her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath before crossing the room to hang up several x-rays and MRI scans on the light board.

"The cancer has spread," she said shakily, "It traveled through his blood stream and metastasized to other organs."

She pointed out several large white spots on the scans.

"These are all tumors," she explained softly, "They're spread throughout most of his body."

Joe put a hand over his mouth as he looked at the scan.

"Oh, my God," he choked, "Barry."

Cisco didn't say anything. He looked at the scans with a churning feeling in his stomach. Barry was really sick—sicker than he had originally anticipated. It was especially difficult for Cisco to take it all in, considering this morning, to him, Barry was perfectly fine. And now this. Granted, the rest of them had only just found out yesterday. Really, to _all_ of them, it seemed like Barry had gone from perfectly healthy to critically ill within a matter of days—even if he had technically had the cancer for two years.

"It's strange," Caitlin choked, breaking the silence, "Like I said, this doesn't seem to presenting like normal leukemia. Normal AML tends to spread to the lymphatic system, targeting only certain organs. This, though…I've found traces of the cancer in several vital organs, ones that aren't usually affected by this type of cancer. It's much more… _aggressive_ than any type of leukemia I've ever seen. I suspect Barry's powers have something to do with it."

"Is it treatable?" Cisco whispered, his eyes wide as he looked at the scans.

Caitlin gave him an uneasy look, hesitating before answering.

"Of course," she said, not sounding very confident, "Of course we can treat it."

"But can we _cure_ it?" Barry choked, tearing his eyes away from the scans to look at the doctor, "Treating it is one thing, but curing it is another, Caitlin. Is it _curable_?"

"Yes," Caitlin said tearfully, "We're going to cure you, Barry. It's not going to be easy, but we're going to cure you."

Barry didn't look very reassured at these words. _None_ of them did.

"Okay," Barry whispered, "What do we do first then? How are we going to treat it?"

"I think our best bet will be chemo and radiation therapy," Caitlin said gently, "I'll start working on synthesizing a chemotherapy drug for you, and I should hopefully have it done in time for when we're finished with your pre-chemo treatments."

"Pre-chemo treatments?" Joe whispered.

Caitlin nodded.

"He'll need dialysis treatments and supplemental therapy," she explained, "I analyzed his blood samples, and there are signs of organ damage from the tumors, primarily in his liver and kidneys. Toxins are starting to build up in his bloodstream from the underactive organs. They're not filtering his blood the way they're supposed to. Dialysis will help, and supplements will help get him as healthy as possible before he starts treatment."

"Okay," Joe said determinedly, resting a hand on Barry's shoulder, "So when do we start?"

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh.

"As much as I'd like to do a dialysis treatment today," she said, looking at Barry, "I think it's probably best we wait until tomorrow. I want to give him a day to heal from the biopsy before I make him go through another procedure."

"It's just dialysis," Barry said quietly, "You're just filtering the toxins from my blood. I can handle it. I don't see why we can't do it today."

"The anticoagulants," Caitlin said immediately, "I'm going to have to give you anticoagulants for the process, and I'd be putting you at risk for post-biopsy hemorrhage. No, it's better to wait until you're healed, especially since you're already at increased risk for bleeding because of your low platelets. Dialysis is a risky but necessary procedure for you. It's far from simple in your case. You're at high risk for bleeding complications."

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay," he said quietly, "I'll be back tomorrow then."

It was clear to everyone that Barry would much rather be anywhere but here. He didn't want to go through all of this, no more than they wanted to see him go through it. His subdued attitude was normal and understandable, but there was something else about Barry's demeanor that seemed to have shifted suddenly. They just didn't know what it was.

Whatever it was, it made them all uneasy.


	5. News

**News**

* * *

"Joe, let go," Barry said softly, as they made their way up the porch steps.

Joe sighed, but he complied, reluctantly letting go of Barry's arm. Barry held onto the railing for support instead, sucking in a pained breath as he lifted his legs, one at a time, to make it up the porch steps. His hip was still incredibly sore. Caitlin had wanted him to stay at STAR Labs longer, but as soon as Barry had regained his ability to walk, he had wanted to leave. It was Saturday, after all. He and Joe had spent the majority of their day at STAR Labs, and Iris was probably wondering where they had been all day.

Iris had moved back home now. She had never really said it out loud, but it was most likely because she was lonely. She wasn't used to living by herself, and after Eddie's death, she had found herself alone in an empty apartment. No one was surprised when she moved back home.

It led to a bit of a predicament, though. There was no way they would be able to keep Barry's illness from her, not that Joe thought they should. She had a right to know.

"Barry, wait," Joe murmured, when Barry moved towards the front door.

Barry turned and gave him a questioning look.

"Bar, I know you're dreading it, but we really need to tell her," Joe said seriously, "Tonight. We need to tell Iris _tonight_."

"Joe," Barry said in a strained voice.

"She deserves to know," Joe said gently, "Keeping your identity as the Flash a secret from her was a mistake. _My_ mistake. I urged you not to tell her the truth, and that's on me. This is different, though. Now I'm urging you to be _honest_ with her. She forgave you for not telling her you're the Flash, but she'll never forgive you if you don't tell her about this. This is something family doesn't keep from each other."

"I _do_ plan to tell her," Barry said earnestly, "I just don't want to tell her tonight, Joe. I _can't_. Not yet. She's happy not knowing. Can we please just wait at least a few days before telling her? Before _crushing_ that happiness? She's not going to take this well, and for her sake _and for mine_ , I can't tell her now. I can't handle her reaction right now."

"I understand," Joe said sadly, "But the longer you keep it from her, the more upset she'll be when she finds out. She'll be angry that you denied her the chance to be there for you."

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"I know," he whispered.

"Barry, waiting to tell her might seem easier, but it's not," Joe said painfully, "Waiting will only make it harder for her _and for you_ when you finally do. I know you really don't want to do this— _any_ of this—but it would be better to just get it out of the way. Tell her tonight."

Barry nodded silently, a somber look on his face.

"Okay," he whispered, "I'll tell her."

Joe gave him a sad smile and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be easier once she knows," he said surely, "And we'll get through this as a family."

Barry nodded and took in a deep breath.

He knew Joe was right. He had to tell Iris. As much as he didn't want to, Barry resolved to himself that he was going to do what Joe said. He was going to tell her tonight. He wasn't going to beat around the bush like he did with Joe, either. He was going walk through that door and tell her right away. No stalling.

With a small nod to Joe, Barry reached for the handle on the front door and turned it, taking a deep breath to try to calm his nerves for what he was about to do. As soon as the front door was open, however, Barry heard a shrill voice call out.

"Guys!" Iris shrieked, grinning from ear to ear as she rushed over to them from the kitchen, "You won't believe it! I have the _best_ news!"

Barry suddenly had a churning feeling in his stomach. Whatever she was about to tell them was going to be a lot better than _his_ news. His news was going to kill her happy mood.

Barry looked over when he saw Wally walk out of the kitchen to join them in the entry way, an amused smile on his face as he watched his sister's display of excitement. Barry had completely forgotten Wally would even be here. He had forgotten that Wally was usually here on the weekends. Hell, he had forgotten today was Saturday. His mind had been preoccupied with other things.

"What's going on?" Joe asked slowly.

Iris beamed at him.

"I just got assigned by the CCPN to cover a story in Kenya!" she told them happily.

Barry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Kenya?" he asked, "As in Kenya, _Egypt_?"

Iris nodded excitedly.

"Some archeologists uncovered some new artifacts or something," she explained quickly, "I haven't gotten all the details yet. But I _will_ , when I _go there to report on it_!"

Barry felt a genuine smile spread across his lips, even if on the inside, his stomach was churning in dismay. He was happy for her, and so proud, but the timing…

Iris giggled happily and wrapped her arms around her father in a brief hug. She pulled back and then lunged for Barry, hugging him with more force than he had been anticipating. Barry sucked in a strained breath when his legs threatened to collapse from under him, his hip twinging horribly with the unexpected shift in weight. Unfortunately, Iris noticed.

"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling out of the hug to frown at him in concern.

"Fine," Barry gasped, his eyes watering in pain, "I just…twisted my hip funny at a crime scene earlier. It shouldn't take long to heal."

He would have given a Flash excuse, saying it was from a metahuman fight or something, but Wally was here, so he had to go with the lamer excuse. Iris frowned at him. She wasn't the only one. Joe was staring at him, his eyebrows furrowed, a strained look on his face.

"Is that where you've been all day?" Iris asked the two of them, "Working?"

Joe opened and closed his mouth, giving Barry an unsure look. Barry subtly shook his head, his eyes pleading with Joe's. Joe seemed to understand. Now wasn't the time. He clearly didn't feel comfortable with flat-out _lying_ about where they were today, though.

"It was an unexpected case," Barry answered, when Joe didn't say anything, "It couldn't wait until Monday and had to be dealt with today. Time-sensitive sort of thing."

Joe gave Barry a sad look, and Barry quickly knew why. He hadn't meant it to sound that way. He had just been coming up with an excuse. He didn't realize until after the words left his mouth that what he had said wasn't exactly a lie. They _had_ been dealing with an unexpected, time-sensitive case. A medical case. His case.

"Well, you're just in time for dinner," Iris said happily, "I made Grandma Esther's noodles to celebrate. I hope you're hungry."

Barry had to fight back a groan. He was a lot of things right now, but "hungry" wasn't one of them. Just the thought of food right now made his stomach churn.

"Actually, I already ate," Barry said awkwardly.

He just really didn't have it in him to sit through an entire meal right now. He was exhausted and just wanted to lay down and rest his sore hip and back. Sitting in an uncomfortable dining room chair, trying not to throw up while choking down the food he used to love sounded unbearable at the moment.

"Barry, I think you got a little too wrapped up in the case today," Joe said with a forced laugh, a meaningful look in his eye, "That was hours ago. You must be _starving_."

Barry gave Joe a pleading look, but Joe maintained a solid expression. He wasn't letting Barry off the hook. Caitlin had said it was essential Barry try to gain any weight he could before starting treatment, and Joe was clearly taking that advice seriously. Barry knew he should be taking it seriously, too, but tonight he just didn't have it in him to sit through a meal and pretend like everything wasn't falling apart.

"Is it that hard to spend more than two minutes with us?" Wally muttered then, so quietly Barry almost hadn't heard him.

That comment made his choice for him. To Iris's delight and Joe's approval, Barry shuffled over with the rest of them to the dining room table. When he managed to sit down in a chair at the table, he looked up to find Iris frowning at him.

"You must have really hurt your leg," she observed, "Are you sure it's healing alright? Maybe you should go see Caitlin."

Barry gave her a small smile.

"She looked at it already," he said honestly—she had more than _looked_ at it—"She said it should be better by tomorrow."

He must have been limping worse than he originally thought. Iris looked like she was itching to ask him more about it, but she couldn't really do that with Wally sitting right there, considering she was probably assuming it was Flash-related. Thankfully, she was forced to let it slide, and Barry wasn't forced to lie to her even more.

"So, tell me about this new assignment in Kenya," Barry said then, quickly changing the subject.

It worked. Iris was easily distracted from everything else as she launched into the details of the assignment, talking animatedly as she told him what she knew of the archeological dig she would be researching. Barry listened attentively, taking note of how excited Iris sounded as she spoke.

He couldn't ruin this for her. This was huge for her career, and she deserved better than to have it spoiled by his own bad news. Iris was scheduled to depart for Egypt in two weeks, and she would be gone for an entire month.

She was leaving.

Barry could clearly see the distress on Joe's face as he listened to his daughter speak excitedly about the trip. Every time he made eye contact with Barry, though, Barry offered him a sad smile, as if to say that it was okay. This was a _good_ thing, and they should be happy for her. It was better not to tell her. This was good news being given on a day that had previously held only negative news.

This was a good thing.

Barry knew the timing of it was awful, though. By the time Iris got back, he would be going through treatment already. She would be returning home to find out he was sick. It was better than her finding out _before_ she left, though. If Barry told her now, she wouldn't go. She wouldn't leave if she knew he was sick, and Barry couldn't bear to have that on his conscience. He wasn't going to let his illness compromise her career or her happiness. He wasn't going to let it affect her like it was going to affect him.

As Iris continued to speak, Barry looked over at Joe again, who was staring at him with a sad expression on his face. As soon as Barry looked at him, Joe looked pointedly at Barry's plate. Barry sighed and looked down at it, pushing the food around with his fork. He still had yet to take a single bite. When he glanced over at Wally, who had already finished eating, he saw that Wally was staring at him, a confused look on his face as he looked back and forth between Barry and Joe, probably wondering what the hell was going on between the two of them.

And during all of this, Iris continued to talk, clearly unaware of the silent conversations taking place around her. Barry turned his attention back to her again as he forced himself to take a bite of the meal she had made, the food tasting like ash in his mouth. Maybe Iris leaving wasn't such a bad thing.

He wouldn't have to fake a smile then.

* * *

" _Barry_ ," Joe growled as he entered the kitchen in the morning.

Barry looked questioningly back at him. Joe simply gave a pointed look at the mug in Barry's hand and then back at him again. Barry sighed and set the empty mug back down, returning the pot of coffee back to the coffee maker instead of pouring himself a cup.

"It's just coffee, Joe," Barry muttered.

"It's _caffeine_ ," Joe said seriously, "Caitlin said—"

"I know what Caitlin said," Barry said irritably, "I was only going to have one cup. It's less than a hundred milligrams of caffeine."

"Which is a hundred milligrams too many," Joe said firmly, "It'll dehydrate you and constrict your blood vessels, two things Caitlin said you should avoid before going through a dialysis treatment."

"Did you know that just the _steam_ from a cup of coffee has more antioxidants than an entire orange?" Barry said irritably, "It's not like I'm drinking poison."

"Caitlin said you should only be drinking water," Joe persisted, "Water and Juice."

Barry sighed and then walked over to the refrigerator to pull out a carton of orange juice. He could feel Joe's eyes on him the entire time, giving Barry the same thoughtful look he had been giving him last night.

"Barry," Joe said softly.

"I know what you're going to say," Barry said quietly as he poured himself a glass of juice, "I made the right decision last night, Joe. I was right not to tell her."

"When are you planning to?" Joe asked seriously, "She's leaving in two weeks, Bar."

Barry leaned up against the counter, nervously gripping the glass of juice in his hands.

"I'm going to tell her when she gets back," he said firmly, "I'm not going to tell her before she leaves."

Joe didn't look surprised by this decision, but he looked far from happy with it.

"Barry," he said sadly, "I hope you're not just…using this as an excuse to put off telling her."

Barry shook his head.

"That's not what this is," he assured, "This is about _her_ , not me. I'm not going to let this hold her back. You and I both know she won't go if she finds out I'm sick. I can't do that to her."

Joe nodded sadly.

"I understand," he said quietly, "I'm not surprised you would think that way. You wouldn't be you if you didn't, but Barry…she deserves the chance to…to spend…"

Joe opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not finishing his sentence.

"To spend whatever time with me she can?" Barry asked in a strained voice, "While I'm still here?"

Joe's eyes widened in horror.

"No, Bar," he said quickly, "No, that's not what I was going to say. I just meant…you're going to get worse before you get better. She deserves to spend time with you while you're still healthy. By the time she gets back, you're probably going to be in the middle of treatment already. That's what I meant. I didn't mean…"

Barry nodded, looking at the floor.

"I know what you mean," he said quietly, "It's going to be harder for her to process everything. I know I wanted to wait to tell her, but I wasn't planning to wait that long. I don't have much of a choice now, though. I just don't know what the best decision is. At least, this way, Iris gets to be happy for another month before we bring her into this whole mess."

Joe nodded sadly.

"What about Wally?" he asked then, "When are you planning to tell _him_?"

"I have no idea," Barry sighed.

He hadn't really given it much thought. He and Wally still barely knew each other, and this was deeply personal. It seemed wrong to tell Wally something so heavy without getting to know him better first. That was difficult, though. They had nothing in common and had very different personalities. Not to mention the fact that Wally felt threatened by Barry. It made getting to know him very difficult.

"And your dad?" Joe asked quietly, "When are you going to call and tell him? He needs to know, Bar."

Barry let out a heavy sigh. Unlike with Wally, Barry _had_ given his dad a great deal of thought. He knew he'd have to call him. He was his father, after all. Barry was dreading it, though. His dad had spent fourteen years in prison. Fourteen miserable years. And now that he was finally out and happy, Barry was going to pull him back down again. Just like with everyone else, Barry was going to pull him in and force him to suffer with him. He was quickly learning that cancer affected far more than just the one who was sick. It hurt everyone they loved, too.

It was the worst part of it.

"I'll call him sometime this week," Barry said in a strained voice, "I want to make sure things are a little more…stable before we bring him into this. Caitlin hasn't even put together a full treatment plan, yet. My dad's a doctor. When I tell him, he's going to want all the details."

Joe nodded in understanding.

"And Singh?" he asked quietly, "When are we going to tell the captain, Barry? We need to tell him so we can arrange a sick leave for you."

"I might not need a sick leave," Barry said quickly, "We don't even know if I'm going to get that bad yet. Lots of people continue to work while going through cancer treatment."

Joe gave Barry a skeptical look.

"That's not very common, Bar," he said quietly, "Odds are…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Barry said firmly, "For now, I really have no reason to tell Singh. He doesn't need to know."

Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"I suppose we should get going to STAR Labs soon," he said softly, "Caitlin said we could go in for your dialysis any time you want. It might be easier to just get it out of the way."

"Yeah," Barry said softly, "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

Barry set down his glass of juice and made to leave the kitchen, but Joe held up a hand to stop him.

"Bar, at least have a slice of toast or something," he said gently.

Barry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Joe."

"I know," Joe said sadly, "I know you're not hungry, but you need it, Bar."

Barry nodded and reluctantly moved to make himself something to eat. It was nice having Joe know everything because he was able to support him and make him feel less alone, but that support also included this—Joe watching Barry like a hawk and pestering him to take care of himself. Barry figured he may as well get used to it now.

It wasn't going to end any time soon.

* * *

Caitlin watched Barry closely, taking note of how pale he had become. His vitals were steady, but he was still pale and clammy throughout the procedure. It was a common side effect. It was partly physical and partly psychological. Most people weren't used to having their blood taken out of them, run through a machine and put back into them. Barry had always been good with blood, but with the stress he was under right now, combined with the temporary blood loss and low blood volume, Caitlin wasn't surprised that Barry was getting a bit woozy during the procedure.

He kept his eyes closed most of the time, tilting his head back as he tried to relax during the process. He had an ill look on his face and had broken out into a cold sweat. Caitlin couldn't help but feel guilty as she laid a cold washcloth across his forehead.

"Thanks," Barry muttered without opening his eyes.

Caitlin shared a brief look with Joe then. Joe hadn't said much to her all morning. She knew he was still processing the origin of Barry's illness. They all were. Caitlin didn't know how she was going to do this. She didn't know how she was going to administer all these treatments to Barry while always knowing in the back of her head that she had helped cause this. She had helped make him sick in the first place.

Barry said he forgave them, but Caitlin couldn't help but fear that he was going to resent them eventually, especially her. She was trying to help him, but she was also going to cause him a lot of pain with the treatments she had planned for him. She hoped Barry wouldn't, over time, start seeing her as the bad guy. She couldn't handle his anger on top of the guilt she was already feeling.

Barry wasn't angry, though. Like always, he was forgiving and understanding. He hadn't mentioned the particle accelerator since yesterday. None of them had. Barry had asked them to not dwell on it and to just move forward, but that was a lot easier said than done, especially with the silent looks Joe kept giving her. It was obvious he was still struggling with the fact that Barry's own friends had made him sick.

"I should call Iris," Joe said quietly, breaking the silence in the room, "She's going to be wondering where we are again."

"What are you going to tell her?" Barry asked, opening his eyes.

"Don't worry," Joe assured, "I'll come up with a good excuse."

He rubbed Barry's arm in a comforting gesture before standing up. He looked sadly at Barry for a moment before turning and leaving the room, leaving doctor and patient alone together. It was silent at first, after Joe's departure. Barry didn't close his eyes again, but he didn't look at Caitlin either. He stared down at the sheets covering his lap, a solemn look on his face.

"Are you still doing alright, Barry?" Caitlin asked softly, glancing at the readings on the dialysis machine.

Barry nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly, "How much time is left?"

Caitlin looked at the timer with a sigh. They were only half-way done.

"Two more hours," she said softly.

Barry sighed and laid his head back again, looking at the ceiling.

"Four hour dialysis sessions," he muttered, "Three days a week."

"I know it's hard," Caitlin said sadly, "The sessions should get easier each time you do it."

Barry let out another heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Caitlin, when are you planning to tell everyone?" he asked quietly.

Caitlin furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked, "Tell them what?"

Barry pulled his hands away from his face and finally looked at her.

"I'm a scientist," he said seriously, "I may not be a doctor, but I _do_ know medicine, Caitlin. I'm not a bio geneticist, but I know how cancer works. When are you going to tell everyone the statistics for late stage leukemia like mine?"

Caitlin's heart clenched as she understood what he meant.

"Barry…"

"Eight percent," Barry whispered, "Eight percent survival rate."

Caitlin's heartrate picked up. She should have known Barry would do his research. He was a scientist after all. She understood now why Barry had been so quiet since she had told him what stage he was in.

He knew how bad it really was.

"Barry, those statistics don't apply to you," she said quickly, her voice laced with desperation, "Your body is regenerative. Your metabolism is accelerated. Your organs are ten times more efficient than the normal person's, and—"

"My organs are failing," Barry said bluntly, "My organs are already failing, Caitlin, and you said yourself that my increased cellular mitosis is causing the cancer to multiply faster. My powers help me, but they're also working against me."

"Yes," Caitlin said honestly, "But my point is that you're still a special case, Barry. Those statistics don't apply to you."

Barry sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Caitlin, people with cancer as progressed as mine usually don't even get treatment," he said quietly.

Caitlin stared at him with wide eyes.

"What are you saying, Barry?" she asked seriously, "Are you saying you don't even want to _try_?"

"Of course I'm going to try," Barry sighed, his eyes filling with tears, "My family would never forgive me if I didn't try. I just…I know what my chances are."

"Barry," Caitlin choked, her own eyes filling with tears now, "You really shouldn't be thinking about this."

"I'm just trying to face reality," Barry said seriously, "I know you're an excellent doctor, but you're also my friend. You're blinding yourself to the reality of the situation because you don't want to face the fact that things might not go our way. You and I both know how bad this is, and I don't want you to sugarcoat things. I want you to be honest with me—about _everything_.

"I'm not just a patient, Caitlin. I'm a scientist, and I want to be informed about everything when I'm going through treatment. I want to see the scans myself. I want to analyze my own samples, run my own blood panels. I want to help you develop the chemotherapeutic agent we're going to use. I don't want to just sit here and be treated without having any say in anything."

Caitlin nodded and sniffed.

"I understand," she said quietly, "I understand why you would want to…oversee everything."

Barry's eyes widened then.

"It's not like that, Cait," he said quickly, "It's not that I don't trust you. I _do_. I trust you with my life. This is about _me_. I need to _do_ something. I can't just helplessly sit here and leave it all up to others to cure me. I want to act."

Caitlin gave him a watery smile.

"Of course," she said understandingly, "Of course you'd want to be involved. That's a good thing…that you're determined to do everything you can."

"I said I knew my chances," Barry said firmly, "Not that I wasn't optimistic. I'm going to fight like hell to beat this thing."

Caitlin gave him a small smile. Of course Barry would be optimistic. He was _always_ optimistic.

"Then why did you mention the statistics?" she asked quietly.

Barry wasn't one to be dramatic or wallow in self-pity. She didn't understand why he had even mentioned the statistics. She would have thought he of all people would avoid the subject.

"Because I don't know if we should tell them," Barry sighed, "The others. I don't know if we should tell them the odds or not."

"Oh," Caitlin said softly, understanding now.

"I just don't want them to get their hopes up," Barry continued, "I don't want them to be unprepared if…things don't work out."

Caitlin couldn't believe how calm he sounded. They were calmly discussing the possibility of his _death_. Most people would be a crying mess right now.

"At the same time," Barry continued, "I don't want to crush their hope by telling them. It would only make them worry more. Not telling them might be easier. They're happier not knowing the odds."

"I don't know, Barry," Caitlin said quietly, "It's a hard choice to make, deciding how much you should tell your family. As a doctor, the choice is usually made for me. Doctors are supposed to disclose all the information. As a friend, though, I was having a hard time trying to figure out what to tell everyone and what to keep to myself. You're the patient, though, and it's ultimately your decision how much you want to tell your family. I'll tell them only what you want me to."

Barry gave her a sad smile.

"I appreciate that," he said gratefully, "But that doesn't really help me, Caitlin. I'm asking you what you think I should do. Should I tell them the odds, or should I keep it to myself? I don't know what to do. Iris is _leaving_ in two weeks. If things…take a turn for the worse, if I don't make it through this, she'll have missed out on all that time with me. She'll never forgive me for that."

Caitlin stared at him with watery eyes. Barry had clearly given this a lot of thought.

"I don't know, Barry," she said quietly, "I wish I could tell you what to do, but I just don't know. I wasn't going to tell you. I wasn't going to tell you the odds. Really, eight percent is just a number. It's a very broad statistic that doesn't truly even apply to you. We don't _know_ what the odds really are in your case, which was why I wasn't going to tell you about this. Your prognosis will be easier to determine once we actually start treatment and see how your body and the cancer responds to it."

Barry nodded thoughtfully.

"Caitlin, I have to ask you something," he said seriously then.

Her eyebrows furrowed at him. Barry opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right words.

"If I wasn't me," he said slowly, "If you didn't _know_ me, and I was just a nameless patient who came to you with this condition…would you recommend treatment?"

Caitlin stared at him, frozen in shock by the unexpected question.

" _Would_ you?" Barry pressed, his eyes boring into hers, "Would you suggest treatment or would you…put me in terminal care?"

Caitlin looked down and wiped a tear from her face, one she hadn't felt escape her eye.

"Barry, you're the Flash," she choked, "If I didn't know who the Flash was, and he came to me for help…I would explore all options before recommending any terminal care."

Barry nodded and looked down, although he didn't seem completely satisfied with her answer.

"Barry?" she asked tearfully.

"And if I wasn't the Flash?" he whispered, "If I didn't have powers?"

"That doesn't matter," Caitlin said firmly, "You _are_ the Flash and you _do_ have powers, so that situation doesn't even apply."

Barry didn't say anything. He just stared at her and waited for her answer. Caitlin let out a heavy sigh.

"If you didn't have powers," she said in a strained voice, "I would be recommending end of life care."

Barry nodded thoughtfully.

"Barry…"

"Thank you for your honesty," he said quietly.

"Barry, that's only if you didn't have powers," Caitlin said quickly, "That scenario—"

"I know," Barry said, offering her a sad smile, "Thankfully, I _do_ have powers, and we're going to try. We're going to cure me."

Caitlin gave him a watery smile.

"Yeah, we are," she agreed.

Although scientists often made the worst patients, at least Barry was an optimistic one.


	6. Limits

**Limits**

* * *

Joe knew he had to be annoying Barry. He was watching him closely, making sure he ate enough, didn't run, avoided caffeine, and got enough sleep. Barry even said at one point that Joe was making him feel like a little kid again. Joe knew he was being overbearing, but he didn't know what else to do. There wasn't anything he _could_ do. He couldn't find a cure. He couldn't treat Barry. He couldn't magically just make this whole thing go away.

But he could be there for him.

Joe had lost track of how many times he had walked into Barry's lab today. He knew it was getting excessive at this point, and he didn't know what he was expecting to find every time he did. Barry seemed completely normal when he was at work, despite maybe looking a little tired. He wasn't spacey, though. In fact, he seemed completely focused on everything he was doing, completely absorbed in his work.

"I thought you said you were almost done for the day," Joe said when he walked in to find Barry hunched over his microscope like before.

"I am," Barry sighed, looking up from his microscope and rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I finished my last report an hour ago."

Joe's eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you working on then?" he asked curiously.

Barry looked past Joe to check the doorway and make sure no one was walking past the lab.

"My chemotherapeutic agent," he whispered.

Joe's expression saddened.

"Oh," he said softly, "I thought Caitlin had that covered already."

"She did," Barry nodded, "I'm just making a few adjustments to the med. Don't worry. I'll run it all past Caitlin when I'm done tweaking it."

"What's wrong with the chemo med she already made?"

"Nothing," Barry said quickly, "I just…I know my metabolism is going to get in the way. I'm looking for a pharmaceutical that will slow it down enough for the chemo to actually _work_."

"Oh," Joe frowned, "Any luck?"

Barry shook his head.

"No," he sighed, "I've found agents that will slow my metabolism, but every one that I've found will basically _destroy_ my liver. Pharmaceutical companies don't exactly make medications designed to _slow_ metabolism. Most people want to speed theirs _up_. And any medications I find have too many negative side effects that make them counterproductive. It won't do any good to kill the cancer if it kills my liver or kidneys in the process."

"Barry," Joe sighed, "Don't you think you should let Caitlin worry about this? You shouldn't be stressing yourself with this stuff."

"I don't want to put this all on her," Barry said seriously, "It's not fair to put all the weight on one person. I'm the one who's sick, so I should be helping with my treatment."

"No, Bar," Joe sighed, sadly shaking his head, "You shouldn't. You're the one who's sick, so you should be _resting_. You should be taking it easy, not using your free time at work to study medications or take your own _blood samples_."

Joe glanced at the vials of blood Barry had sitting on his lab bench. Barry flushed and slid them behind his microscope, out of sight.

"I just feel like I need to do something," he muttered, "I feel so helpless, just sitting here, leaving it all up to others to treat me. I…I need to feel like I'm _accomplishing_ something, making progress."

Joe nodded sadly at him. He knew exactly how Barry felt.

"I know," he said quietly, "But it's not going to do you any good to obsess, Barry. You need to get out of your own head for a little while, focus on something else."

"Like what?" Barry sighed, turning off the light to his microscope.

"Just _being_ with us," Joe said in a strained voice, "Spending time with family. Spending time with _Iris_ before she leaves. Getting to know Wally. You've been using work to distract yourself, but your family would be a much healthier crutch, Bar."

Barry nodded and let out a heavy sigh.

"I know," he whispered.

"Wally's stopping by the house tonight," Joe told him gently, "He's working on his engineering project. If you're up for it, he would love some help from that big brain of yours."

Barry tried hard not to scoff. He found it hard to believe Wally actually said that. It was all clearly Joe's idea—his scheme to get Barry and Wally in the same room together.

"I don't know," Barry said slowly, "I have a dialysis session after work. It takes four hours, so I probably won't be home until eight or nine."

"I know it's not the best day for it," Joe said quickly, "If you're too tired or it's too much for you, I completely understand. We can reschedule."

"No," Barry sighed, rubbing his eyes, "No, don't reschedule. We can do it tonight. I'll be there."

"Are you sure, Bar?" Joe asked seriously, "The last thing I want to do is put too much on you. I think spending time with family would be good for you, but I don't want to push this if it's only going to add to your stress."

"No, I want to do this," Barry assured him, "It'll be a good chance for Wally and me to connect. This is a good idea."

Joe could tell Barry was less than enthusiastic about the idea, but he could also tell that Barry meant it. He really _did_ want to try to get along with Wally.

"Okay," Joe said, giving Barry a small smile, "And are you sure you don't want me to come to your—?"

"I'm sure," Barry cut him off, "I don't need you to come to every dialysis appointment with me. It's incredibly boring, just sitting there for four hours. I'll have Cisco and Caitlin there to distract me."

Joe let out a heavy sigh and nodded. He wanted to insist that he go, but he also didn't want to be overbearing. He knew Barry felt guilty. He felt like it was a "waste of time" for everyone else to sit there with him when his blood was being filtered. Joe didn't see it as a waste of time at all, but he suspected his presence wasn't the best comfort to Barry during his dialysis sessions.

Joe got woozy after a while, watching Barry's blood move through all the tubes. He often had to get up and leave the room for short spurts of time just to get rid of the churning feeling in his gut. It probably only added to Barry's stress, but Barry was too polite to tell him that.

So Joe reluctantly didn't go to Barry's appointment. Instead, he dropped him off at STAR Labs after work. Joe felt guilty as he drove away, leaving Barry to undergo the treatment alone. He wouldn't be alone, though, Joe reasoned. Cisco and Caitlin were there for him, and Barry didn't want him there.

Joe just wished he knew that for sure.

He wasn't sure if Barry was holding him at arm's length because that made the treatments easier for him or if it was to make it easier for _Joe_. Regardless of the reason, Barry felt better when Joe wasn't there, and Joe tried to not let that hurt him. He knew it was Barry's idea of being selfless, like always.

Barry's selflessness was going to be the death of him.

* * *

"Caitlin, I mean it," Barry said seriously, "I'm _fine_. You're overreacting."

"No," Caitlin said firmly, "Overreacting would be keeping you here for overnight observation. Overreacting would be running every test imaginable to ensure this doesn't happen again. I'm _not_ overreacting, Barry. I'm just asking you to stay for a couple hours."

"I've already spent the majority of my night here," Barry sighed, "Please, Cait. I've had a long day, and I just want to go home."

"Barry, you just _passed out_ ," she said incredulously, "It'd be one thing if you just got tired or woozy for a little while, but this was more than that. You completely lost consciousness. I had to _stop_ the procedure to let you recuperate. This is _not_ normal for a dialysis treatment. You were unconscious for _twenty minutes!_ "

"I'm tired," Barry gritted, losing his patience, "I worked a ten-hour shift today, and I've been doing these treatments all week. I'm _tired_ , Caitlin. That's all this was."

"You and I both know that's not true, Barry," Caitlin persisted, "Your red blood cells are dangerously low. If they get any lower, you're going to start experiencing these episodes during your normal hours of the day. This could happen when you're at work. Or when you're at home with your family. Is that what you want?"

Barry sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I need a blood transfusion," he said quietly, "Don't I?"

"Yes," Caitlin whispered, "You _really_ need one."

Barry shook his head.

"Well, I don't see that happening any time soon," he said seriously, "Unless you can find someone with AB negative blood who also happens to be a speedster."

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh.

"I'll increase your dosage of Procrit," she said softly, "Hopefully, it'll help you create more red blood cells of your own."

"Yeah," Barry whispered.

He didn't voice the fact that the medication would also cause him to produce other blood cells—ones that weren't so great. It seemed like every treatment they came up with only helped the cancer spread faster.

"Barry, I'd really like it if you stayed," Caitlin said quietly, "I just want to make sure you're alright. You don't know how scary it was when we couldn't wake you. I…I thought you were going to code."

Barry blinked at her.

"I just passed out. I wasn't anywhere _near_ coding, Caitlin."

"I know," Caitlin whispered, "I know you weren't. I just…"

"You're paranoid," Barry accused, "You're not just my doctor; you're my friend. Friendship is making you paranoid."

"I know," she sighed, "I know I'm being excessive, but it's not just friendship, Barry. Any doctor would agree with me. Any other doctor would want to keep you here for observation after what just happened."

"I'm not staying here," Barry said firmly, "It's almost nine. I have to get back to the house. Wally's coming over tonight, and I'm supposed to be helping him with—"

"Barry, you need to _rest_ after your dialysis sessions," Caitlin chastised, "You shouldn't be straining yourself."

"I don't want to disappoint them," Barry told her, "I'm _not_ going to disappoint them. This is really important to Joe."

"And if Joe knew about this—about you passing out—he would agree with me that you need to rest," Caitlin countered, "He would reschedule."

"Don't you dare tell him about this, Caitlin," Barry said seriously, "I mean it. As the patient, I'm requesting you keep this confidential."

"Barry, please don't do that," she pleaded, "Don't ask me to hide things from your family. You can't just use confidentially laws to pick and choose what I tell them."

"Actually, I can," Barry said, "I get to choose what to share with my family, and I'm choosing to keep this incident between us. If Joe asks, tell him the dialysis session went the same way it always does."

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Barry," she said seriously, "I'm only trying to _help_ you, and you're making that extremely difficult. You need to know when to think about yourself—when to take _care_ of yourself."

"I feel fine," Barry insisted, "I feel a lot better now. I'm not even dizzy anymore. If I start feeling sick, I'll take it easy, I promise. I just don't want everyone to make a big deal out of this."

"Barry—"

"Joe's here," Barry said suddenly, looking down at his phone, "I'm going to go before he decides to come in here."

"Barry, you should really let me—"

"I feel fine," he insisted, standing up from the bed, "I've had plenty of time to recuperate. If I have any problems, I'll call you, okay?"

"Barry, at least let me check your blood pressure," she urged, reaching for the cuff, "I need to make sure—"

"I'll call you if I have any problems!" Barry called, disappearing through the doorway, "Thanks, Cait!"

Caitlin shook her head in frustration, a feeling of déjà vu setting in. It was just like when Barry woke up from his coma, rushing out of STAR Labs before she could fully examine him. Barry had always been a stubborn patient, but right now, he couldn't afford to be. He couldn't afford to push himself too hard. He couldn't afford to keep things from his family. They needed to know what was going on with him, so they could prevent him from overworking himself. Barry was going to push himself too hard.

And it was going to catch up to him.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Joe asked as soon as Barry climbed into the car.

"Fine," Barry sighed, putting on his seatbelt, "Just the same old boring procedure. It's more of a nuisance than it is painful."

"Are you feeling okay?" Joe asked, his eyebrows furrowing, "You look pale."

"I _always_ look pale," Barry laughed, "Especially after dialysis. It's no big deal."

"Are you sure you're okay meeting with Wally tonight?" Joe persisted, "I know how tiring your treatments are, and it's late. I can always cancel and tell Wally we'll do it some other time."

"No, I'm fine," Barry insisted, "Don't cancel."

He just wanted to get this over with. If he didn't connect with Wally now, it was only going to get harder as time went on, especially when he got sicker. Thankfully, Joe didn't press the issue, and they endured the rest of the car ride in silence. When they got back to the house, they both saw Iris's car in the driveway.

Wally's was nowhere in sight.

"He's late," Joe sighed, looking at his watch, "I told him to be here by nine."

"It's okay," Barry assured him, "I don't mind waiting."

As they got out of the car, Barry felt a small wave of dizziness wash over him. He ignored it, though, even when it got worse as he climbed up the porch steps. He did his best not to sway, so Joe wouldn't see. Thankfully, he didn't.

A full half hour passed by the time Wally arrived at the house. It was quarter to ten now, and Barry was struggling just to keep his eyes open as he sat at the dining room table. He did his best to keep them open, wringing his hands in discomfort as Wally entered the room.

Joe and Iris were both standing in the doorway, clearly hopeful and excited to have Wally and Barry finally spending some time together. Joe clapped Wally on the shoulder as he reluctantly moved to stand next to Barry by the table, setting his backpack down and pulling his laptop out with a sigh.

"My dad thought I should have you take a look," he muttered, confirming Barry's assumption of this all being Joe's idea.

Barry shared a brief glance with Joe and found him to be staring at him, communicating with his eyes how important this was to him. Joe just wanted his two sons to know each other. It meant a great deal to him, and Barry nodded reassuringly at Joe before turning towards Wally's computer.

"So," Wally said, opening his laptop, "This is what I've got so far for my project essay to get into CCU's engineering program."

Barry nodded silently and tried hard not to yawn as he pulled the laptop closer to him, his eyes scanning over the page. Despite his exhaustion, Barry couldn't help but be intrigued by the project in front of him. He gave Wally a surprised look and then returned his gaze to the computer.

"Turbine supercars?" he asked, a smile forming on his face.

It wasn't forced either. Barry was actually pleasantly surprised and intrigued by Wally's project. He hadn't been expecting it from the kid. Barry actually knew a thing or two about turbine engineering and had always found it extremely interesting. He thought back to what Iris had said two nights ago, about Barry and Wally just needing to find something they had in common. It looked like they had finally found it, and it made Barry hopeful as he read through the report.

"Turbines?" Iris asked curiously, "Like, jet engines?"

"Yeah," Wally said excitedly, going into full nerd mode like Barry often did when he was excited about something, "Yeah, it'd use an engine like the ones they have in some helicopters, only it'd run on biodiesel."

"Cool," Iris said, raising her eyebrows.

"It's very cool," Joe said, smiling proudly.

Barry agreed. Wally had a good idea. He was instantly hooked by it and found himself completely immersed in the project, reading Wally's report with genuine interest. The science behind it all interested him greatly, and Barry quickly found himself getting caught up it, like he did with everything. He forgot all about how sick he was feeling as he focused on the project. It turned out to be a welcome distraction.

"Yeah, you're going to want to address the fuel economy issue here," he said thoughtfully, still staring at the screen, "I mean, it is a jet, so it's going to burn through a lot of fuel."

"Yeah, that's why I want to use biodiesel," Wally explained quickly, "It'll run off of anything that burns with oxygen."

Barry nodded thoughtfully, still staring at the screen. He understood Wally's thought process, and it was very smart. He saw one problem with it, though.

"Okay, we also got a sound issue, though," he said thoughtfully, reading through the report, "It'll wake the neighbors, for sure."

Barry let out a light laugh, his eyes still moving over the screen.

"Anything else?" Wally asked, his voice not matching Barry's light tone at all.

Barry looked up in surprise and saw Wally gazing defensively at him, his arms crossed. Barry instantly realized his mistake, especially when he saw the serious look being exchanged between Joe and Iris. He realized now that he hadn't actually said anything _positive_ about Wally's work, even if he had been thinking it. He had gotten too caught up in the science of it all, like he always did with everything. Wally didn't know that about him, though, and had clearly thought Barry was trying to maliciously pick apart his project by pointing out the errors.

"Um…" Barry said uncomfortably, looking back at Wally again so he could quickly repair his mistake, "Well, I just want to help, you know."

He looked desperately back in forth between the three of them, trying to explain and redeem himself. He must have sounded like a total jackass.

"I'm just trying to make sure they have no reason to say no," he explained quickly.

"Okay," Wally said skeptically, scoffing humorlessly and shaking his head in disbelief.

He clearly didn't believe Barry was just innocently trying to help.

"Sorry, Wally. I didn't mean…" Barry said uncomfortably, desperately wishing he hadn't put his foot in his mouth right off the bat, "I mean, it looks _really_ good."

He looked at Joe and Iris in anguish, wishing they could help him get Wally to see he hadn't meant to criticize him. Looking at Joe and Iris didn't help matters. He could clearly see by the worried looks on their faces that he was blowing this. This meant so much to them, that he and Wally got along, and Barry was the one blowing it, like always. He couldn't do anything right. He wished he could go back in time and do it over, could pay more attention to what was coming out of his damn mouth.

"Okay, let's just…start over, okay?" he said desperately, trying to laugh to ease the tension as he stammered over his words.

He glanced back at the computer uncomfortably before looking back at Wally, who was still frowning at him, looking like how Barry felt: like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Why don't we go through it all together?" Barry suggested hopefully, "Work it out."

Wally shrugged, a frown still on his face.

"Sounds good," he muttered, reluctantly moving towards the chair adjacent to Barry's.

"Cool," Barry whispered, glancing at Joe and Iris again.

They looked so disappointed in him. No one was more disappointed in Barry, however, than he was in himself.

He and Wally had had a shaky start, and tonight was supposed to be their chance to fix things and start over, and Barry was already blowing it. At least Wally wasn't leaving. There was still time to fix this.

If tonight didn't go well, Barry didn't know what he was going to do. This was probably his one chance, and if he and Wally couldn't make it work, it seemed unlikely they would ever get along the way Joe desperately wanted them to. Barry _did_ want to get to know Wally. He was Joe's son, after all. He was Iris's brother.

Wally didn't quite feel like family to Barry yet, but it had also been the same with Joe and Iris when he first came to live with them. It had taken him years to accept them as his family, mostly because his dad was still alive, and Barry had thought of his living situation here as only temporary. Over time, however, he had come to love them as if he really shared their blood, and maybe with time, he could feel the same way about Wally.

As Joe and Iris slowly walked out of the room, leaving Barry and Wally to it, Barry found himself wishing they would stay. He knew he and Wally needed to spend some time alone together, just the two of them, but it was going to be hard not having Joe and Iris there as a crutch. They were always a good buffer to ease the tension between them. Wally was different when they weren't around. He was different with Barry. It wasn't like, as soon as the others left the room, Wally turned into a total dick or anything—but he was definitely different. More closed off.

Barry didn't know how he could possibly get Wally to open up to him, when, from the start, Wally had only seen Barry as competition, as the "white shadow" in the family.

"The hardest part was amping up the torque without increasing drag," Wally was saying an hour later.

The two of them had both taken the same tactic towards this forced time together. They both just focused on the project, which Barry appreciated because it allowed him to stop thinking about all the issues between them. However, it also left his mind free to wander about everything else, about the treatments he would be starting soon. About how Iris was leaving for a full month and wouldn't know what was going on.

It was almost eleven now, and Barry felt like he was going face-plant it on the table soon. He couldn't remember ever being this tired in his life. Most nights, now, he was in bed by ten. It didn't help that he had just had a dialysis session either. Now, he was dead on his feet, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to sit here and focus on the project. He had hoped they'd be able to get this done quickly.

"A heavier engine would only slow things down," Wally continued, as Barry stared at the screen, trying to focus on just the project and ignore the fog that was clouding his exhausted brain, "But this streamlined version should optimize both the torque and the horsepower."

Barry glanced up at him, thinking over what Wally had just said. It was a smart thought, but it wasn't exactly a solution. Barry was honestly interested in helping Wally make the project as good as it could possibly be, and he was here to help him after all, so that's what Barry did.

"Yeah, I'm just worried it won't be enough still," he said thoughtfully, starting to type on the computer, "Here, let's do this."

Wally watched him with a blank look on his face as Barry started to rearrange the model for the project.

"Use a one-to-one transfer gearbox to drop the output shaft of the engine," he said quickly as he typed, "Reverse rotation and send more power to the torque converter."

Barry focused on the project in front of him, rearranging it so that the vehicle would function in a way that was ten times more efficient than it was when they had started. Wally had had a great idea, and he clearly knew what he was doing, but he had some miniscule problems in the execution of his design that weren't allowing his car to reach its full potential. Barry finished rearranging it, proud to have found a way to make Wally's idea a possibility. Wally was going to get into the engineering program for sure.

"I didn't come here for you to just do it for me," Wally said suddenly.

Barry looked up from the computer in confusion. Wally was glaring at him, an irritated look on his face.

"I thought we were going to work on this _together_ ," he accused flatly.

"Yeah, we are," Barry said in a small voice, completely shocked by Wally's sudden iciness, "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to speed up the process."

Which was true. Although he was very interested in the project and the welcome distraction it provided, it was getting dangerously late for him to still be up and trying to function coherently. If it got any later, Barry wouldn't be able to focus on anything, and he wouldn't be much help to Wally in his tired state. Wally didn't take his desire to get the project done faster very well, though.

"Why?" he challenged.

The smile slid from Barry's face, and he looked at Wally thoughtfully. He could sense a confrontation coming on, just by the look on Wally's face. Barry already knew Wally didn't like him, but now he was starting to fully understand.

Wally _hated_ him.

"You've got somewhere better to be?" Wally asked bluntly, starting to pack up his things.

"No, Wally," Barry said slowly, the sudden tension in the room making his heartrate pick up slightly, "I just…"

Wally grabbed the computer and spun the screen away from him.

"Wally," Barry said reasonably as the kid closed the computer and put it away.

Wally didn't look at him as he packed up his things, an irritated look on his face.

"Alright," Barry sighed, deciding it was finally time for the two of them to be candid with each other.

Ignoring the tension between them clearly wasn't doing anything to make it go away. It was just making it worse, so Barry decided to just flat out ask Wally.

"Do you have a problem with me?" he asked, trying to make it sound less like an accusation and more like an honest question of concern.

Wally looked up at him then, a small, almost mocking, smile on his face.

"Who could have a problem with _you_?" he asked sarcastically, "You're Barry, right? You're _perfect_."

Barry closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He understood now. He understood for the first time where all of Wally's dislike for him was coming from—why he saw him as competition. Wally was jealous. Barry made Wally feel like he wasn't enough, the same way Wally made Barry feel about himself. Maybe the two of them weren't so different, after all.

If only Wally knew everything Barry had done, the mistakes he had made. He wouldn't call him perfect then. He had it so backwards. Hearing Wally calling him perfect only made Barry's guilt grow, and as if to make matters worse, Wally continued on.

"Never do anything wrong," he said in annoyance, "Always this. Always that."

Wally rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag, walking away from the table.

"Wally," Barry said softly, "It's—"

"I mean," Wally said, cutting him off, "Take a look around you, man. You're in every picture in this room."

Barry glanced painfully at one of the pictures but immediately looked away from it. He hadn't been able to look at them since he had returned from earth two, an earth in which this house was filled with _wedding_ pictures of him and Iris, not pictures of him growing up in a family that wasn't truly his. He had always felt like a burden to Joe and Iris, and now that he was sick, that feeling would only grow.

"You know, thanks for your help," Wally continued stiffly, "But I'll take care of this myself."

He headed towards the door then. Barry shot up from his seat, desperate to remedy the situation.

"Wally, wait," he said in desperation, "Please, just…"

Barry's words trailed off as an intense wave of dizziness suddenly struck him. He had stood up way too fast, and now the room was suddenly spinning, black spots appearing in his vision. He could vaguely see Wally standing there, staring at him in confusion, but then Wally suddenly tilted. The entire _room_ tilted.

Everything suddenly went black.


	7. Perfect

**Perfect**

* * *

Joe's heart sank when he heard the strained voices drifting up the stairs. He couldn't quite hear what the two young men were saying, but he could tell from their tones that Barry and Wally were _not_ having a friendly chat. He had hoped they could get along without him there, but perhaps he had been expecting too much. With a heavy sigh, Joe started making his way down the stairs, intending to act as a mediator between his two sons.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard the thud.

"Dude!" Wally exclaimed, "Are you okay?!"

The next thing Joe knew, he was in the living room, having flown down the stairs at record speed. His stomach clenched when he looked down at the floor.

"Barry!" he gasped, stooping down next to where Barry had collapsed.

Barry was laying on his side with his eyes closed. His skin was white as a sheet, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. Joe instantly began tapping the sides of Barry's face, trying to rouse him.

"Bar," he said in anguish, "Barry!"

"What's wrong with him?" Wally asked in confusion, watching from behind Joe as he tried to wake him.

Joe didn't answer. He gripped Barry's shoulder, pinching down hard on his trapezius muscle to provide a painful stimulus. It worked. Barry's eyes finally cracked open, blinking up at him in confusion.

"Joe?" he breathed.

"I've got you, Bar," Joe gasped in relief, his heart still pounding in his chest, "You passed out. You're going to be okay, though. I'm going to take you to see Caitlin."

"N-no," Barry stammered, his eyes widening as his senses returned to him.

Barry shooed Joe's hand away and forced himself into a sitting position.

"I'm fine," he insisted, "I just stood up too quickly. It's nothing."

"It didn't _look_ like nothing," Wally said, still standing there, staring in confusion.

Barry's eyes widened when he saw that Wally was still in the room.

"It's okay, Wally," he said quickly, "I…I just have low blood pressure sometimes. It's nothing serious."

"Barry," Joe said softly, looking at him with sad eyes.

Barry stubbornly shook his head.

"Not now, Joe," he muttered.

Joe nodded with a heavy sigh. Now wasn't the time to push Barry. He would tell Wally when he was ready. Joe knew sooner would be better than later, though. He just wished he could convince Barry of that.

Barry looked nervously around from where he was sitting on the floor. His eyes returned back to Joe's, giving him a worried, questioning look.

"Iris, did she…?"

"She's in bed," Joe assured him.

Barry let out a sigh of relief.

"Good," he whispered, moving to get up.

"Take it slow, Bar," Joe urged, putting a hand on Barry's shoulder to slow him, "Don't get up too fast."

"I'm good," Barry insisted, gratefully accepting the hand Joe offered him.

Joe helped him slowly rise to his feet, but he didn't allow Barry to stand for long, forcing him down on the couch. Wally was still standing there awkwardly, looking unsure of himself.

"It's okay, Wally," Joe assured him once Barry was sitting, "I've got him. It's getting late, and you have a long drive back to the dorms."

Wally seemed to get the hint rather quickly. He nodded and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

"I'll see you around then," he said to Joe.

He still seemed somewhat unsure of himself as he moved toward the door. Before he left, he muttered a quick "feel better" to Barry, his voice somewhat stiff. The tension between the two of them didn't escape Joe's notice, but Joe couldn't really dwell on it right now. He had other concerns.

"What's wrong?" he asked Barry once the front door had closed behind Wally, "What really happened, Bar?"

"I told you," Barry shrugged, "Just low blood pressure."

"Are you sure?" Joe pressed, moving to sit on the couch next to him, "It could be something else. Your blood sugar. The…the brain tumor."

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"It's probably the anemia actually," he told him, "My red blood cells are severely low right now. Caitlin's giving me medication for it, though."

Joe stared at him, an anguished expression on his face. It was really starting now. Barry was actually starting to get sick. His symptoms were becoming more apparent, and they would only get worse over time. Joe knew it was inevitable, but he wasn't prepared for this—for _any_ of it.

"Is there anything else I should know about, Bar?" Joe asked quietly.

"No," Barry answered, perhaps a little _too_ fast, "No, that's it. It's just anemia, and it's not even new. I've been anemic from the start; I just didn't show any symptoms before. It doesn't really change anything."

"Were you feeling sick?" Joe asked seriously, "After your dialysis, were you feeling sick, Bar?"

Barry let out a small sigh before nodding slowly.

"Only a little," he said sheepishly, "I thought the worst of it had passed."

A heavy sigh escaped Joe's lips as he leaned forward on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You should have told me," he said, trying to control the frustration in his voice, "Why didn't you just tell me, Barry? I asked you several times. You know I would have rescheduled this meeting with Wally if you had just told me you weren't feeling well."

"Which is why I didn't tell you," Barry whispered, "I didn't want you to cancel. I knew how important this was to you."

Joe took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to control his temper. He wasn't necessarily angry with Barry. He was just struggling with his own guilt. He should have known tonight wasn't a good night for this. He shouldn't have pushed Barry into working with Wally tonight after he had just had a dialysis session. It was partly Barry's fault for not telling him he was feeling sick, but Joe was chastising himself for not knowing better. He knew Barry well enough. He should have known Barry would lie about it.

"Barry, nothing is more important to me than your health right now," Joe replied in a shaky voice, " _Nothing_."

He looked up at Barry, his eyes filling with tears.

"Please, don't lie to me about these things," he choked.

Barry looked down at his knees and nodded.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Joe just shook his head. He wasn't trying to make Barry feel guilty. He just wanted him to know how much he cared about him.

" _I'm_ sorry," Joe choked, "I'm sorry I pushed this on you. I should have known better."

Barry quickly shook his head.

"I wanted to do this," he insisted, "I wanted to connect with Wally."

Barry looked down again, a bitter expression on his face.

"I couldn't even do that," he gritted, "Wally _hates_ me. I tried so hard to get along with him, and I blew it. I'm so sorry, Joe."

Joe shook his head, a lump forming in his throat. He saw what he had done now. He had put this all on Barry. As if Barry didn't have enough to deal with at the moment, Joe had gone and made him feel like connecting with Wally was solely _his_ responsibility.

It was hard not to be a little angry with Wally. He was making this so difficult. Joe desperately wanted his sons to get along, but his attempts at doing so were only putting more strain on Barry. Wally didn't know Barry was sick, though. Joe had to keep that in mind. Wally didn't know. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't _anyone's_ fault.

"This isn't on you, Barry," Joe said firmly, "You're doing everything you can to connect with Wally. I can see how hard you're trying, and it means a lot to me, but this isn't on you."

Joe let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"And Wally doesn't _hate_ you," he assured him, "He just doesn't know you like we do. He doesn't know a lot of things."

Barry nodded and continued to look down at his lap, not saying anything.

"I'm going to talk to him," Joe decided.

Barry's head shot up.

"Don't," he said seriously, "Talking to him is only going to make it worse."

Barry sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Look," he sighed, "I know you and Iris love me, but _please_ stop telling Wally all these great things about me, and just tell him the truth. I'm not perfect, and I make mistakes."

Joe's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Barry.

"You can't keep doing that, Barry," he whispered.

Barry shook his head at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders," Joe said, giving Barry an understanding look, "I know you've been hurting ever since you came back from earth two. You haven't told us what happened to you there, and I'm not going to pressure you to tell me. I just need you to know that I'm here for you. You don't have to carry everything yourself."

Barry let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face.

"Thanks, Joe," he whispered, "I know I've been distant lately…before I was even diagnosed. I'm just…trying to put earth two behind me."

"I think that's for the best," Joe nodded, "You have enough to focus on right now without dwelling on earth two."

Barry nodded, but the frown remained fixed on his face.

"I just feel like I left an entire world to Zoom's mercy," he muttered, his hands twisting in his lap.

Joe nodded in understanding. Of course that's what Barry would be thinking about right now. Never mind the fact he was sick. For Barry, his responsibilities to his family and as the Flash trumped everything else.

"You can't think about that right now, Bar," Joe said seriously, "You need to focus on yourself right now. I know you're not very good at that, but you have no choice. You're sick, and you need to think about your own wellbeing now."

Barry nodded thoughtfully, not saying anything. Joe let out a heavy sigh before standing up from the couch.

"Come on," he said gently, "You should be in bed right now. You need to rest."

Without another word, Joe helped Barry slowly stand up from the couch so he could escort him to his room. Barry swayed slightly as they were going up the stairs, but they made it to his bedroom without any problems. Barry was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Joe stood there for a moment, watching Barry sleep, his heart aching for his sick kid. After a moment, Joe sighed and reached for Barry's alarm clock, deactivating his alarm.

Barry wouldn't be going to work tomorrow. Joe would call in a sick day for him and let him sleep in. Barry wouldn't be happy with him, but Joe didn't care. He would take Barry being mad at him over letting him push himself too hard. From now on, Joe was going to do everything he could to ease Barry's stress. He was going to take care of him.

Because Barry certainly wasn't going to do it for himself.

* * *

Something was up. Iris could tell. Her dad had been acting strange all week. He had been distracted and distant and… _sad_.

What she didn't know was _why_. Every time she asked him about it, he would brush it off by changing the subject.

Iris was left to only guess what had her father so distracted. Maybe he was still recovering from the stress of everything that had happened with Zoom. Zoom was trapped back on his own earth now, though, so that didn't seem likely. Maybe it was everything going on with Wally. The street racing. His strained relationship with Barry.

Maybe it was _her_. Maybe he was just upset she was leaving for a full month. She had never really gone away from home for that long, and her dad always worried about her. Maybe that was what had him so upset. He was more than just _upset_ , though.

He was sad.

He was borderline _depressed_ lately, and Iris was at a complete loss as to why that was.

Whatever it was, she was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Hey, dad," she greeted cheerfully as she approached his desk.

"Iris," he said in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

"Just bringing you and Barry some lunch," she chimed, holding up the takeout she had gotten them, "Thought I'd surprise you."

Her dad gave her an uneasy smile at these words.

"Thanks, baby girl," he said, "I really appreciate it. Barry would, too, I'm sure, but he's actually not here right now."

"That's okay," she shrugged, "Just give it to him when he gets back."

"No, I mean he's not here at all today," her father clarified, "He took the day off."

Iris frowned at him.

"Why?" she asked, "Where is he?"

"Just at home," her dad shrugged, "He took a sick day. He was out late last night on Flash duty after Wally left. Didn't get any sleep."

"Oh," Iris said, a frown still occupying her face, "Well, in that case, I'll just bring his to the house for him. He hasn't really been taking care of himself as far as eating goes. Does he look like he's losing weight to you?"

Her father looked down at his desk for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Not that I've noticed," he muttered.

Iris frowned at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Her father had the same look on his face that she had been seeing for the last week—the look like something wasn't right. She had seen it many times before and knew it well. It was a look of worry.

"Nothing," her father said, forcing a small smile onto his face as he reached into the takeout bag, "Did you get curly fries?"

"Dad, _please_ just tell me what's wrong," Iris persisted, "I can tell something's bothering you. For a detective, you don't have a very good poker face. Something's obviously wrong."

"I'm fine, Iris," he assured her, "I've just been stressed at work. It's nothing."

"You've been acting weird all week," she accused, "Barry has, too. Is this because of my Kenya assignment?"

Her father sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Yeah, I suppose it is. We're just sad to see you go."

"It's only a month," Iris reasoned, "I'll be back before you know it."

"A lot can happen in a month," her dad muttered, so quietly she wasn't sure if she had been meant to hear it.

"You don't have to worry about me," she assured him, "I'll be fine. I won't leave the dig site, and I'll stay with the CCPN team the entire time. I'll be safe."

Her dad nodded and gave her a sad smile.

"I know," he said quietly, "I know I can trust you to be smart."

Iris smiled at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Good," she sighed, "I'll see you later then."

As she was starting to leave, Iris spun around.

"And yes, by the way," she said, "I did get you curly fries."

Her father's smile widened slightly.

"Thanks, baby girl."

Iris's lips twitched slightly, her smile not quite meeting her eyes.

"Anytime."

* * *

This was disgusting. It was just downright nasty and exhausting. He hadn't even started chemo yet. Why was he always throwing up?

Caitlin said nausea was a normal symptom of late-stage leukemia, but Barry hadn't realized how _annoying_ it would be.

Although he had initially been upset with Joe, Barry was now glad he had forced him to stay home from work today. He really needed this rest day, and it was always inconvenient trying to deal with his nausea at work. Thankfully, there was a second floor bathroom at the CCPD that was right next to his lab. Few people used it, so the handful of times Barry had been sick at work, no one had walked in on him.

He wished he could say the same for the bathroom at home.

Barry was just rinsing his mouth out at the sink when he suddenly heard a light tap on the bathroom door. A heavy sigh escaped his chest. It was probably Joe on his lunch break, stopping in to check on him. Barry knew he didn't have to hide his nausea from Joe, but he still tried to keep the number of times Joe walked in on him being sick to a minimum. It wasn't something he wanted an audience for.

"I'm fine, Joe," Barry sighed tiredly as he opened the bathroom door.

And then he froze. It wasn't Joe standing on the other side of the door. Iris was standing in front of him, a fast food takeout bag in her hand and a confused expression on her face.

"Iris," Barry said in surprise.

"Hey," she said, furrowing her eyebrows at him as she took in his rough appearance, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Barry said quickly, "I was just—"

"You look like you've been crying, Barry," she said in concern.

Barry internally cursed himself. He knew his eyes were bloodshot and watery from vomiting. They always were.

"I'm fine," he assured her quickly, "I just…spilled some aftershave. The smell was overwhelming."

Stupid. It was the lamest excuse he had ever come up with. Iris gave him a skeptical look, clearly not believing his excuse for his watery eyes. Thankfully, she didn't press the issue. If she thought something was wrong, she knew him well enough to know he didn't want to talk about it.

"I got you some food," she sighed, clearly irritated by his half-assed excuse, "Thought I'd drop by and deliver it to you."

Barry's stomach lurched as he glanced at the Big Belly Burger bag in her hand. Just the smell alone was making his already empty stomach twinge menacingly with disgust. It took everything he had not to close the bathroom door in Iris's face and dive for the toilet again.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, forcing a smile, "That's so sweet of you. Thank you."

Iris gave him a small smile as she handed him the bag. Barry did his best not to gag from the smell as they made their way downstairs to the dining room.

"Dad said you had a late night," Iris said as they sat down at the table, "Said it was Flash business."

"Yeah," Barry confirmed, gritting his teeth in guilt with the lie, "I didn't get too much sleep."

"What was it?" Iris asked curiously, "Anything I can write about?"

Barry quickly shook his head.

"Just a public intoxication," he lied, "I got the guy off the street before he could hurt himself. Nothing too crazy."

Iris nodded slowly, and then her eyes flitted to the takeout bag on the table.

"Are you going to eat?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, observing him.

"Y-yeah," Barry said, forcing a smile.

Barry kept the uneasy smile planted on his face as he reluctantly opened the bag, pulling out a Super Royal with cheese. Of course, Iris had to go and get him four large burgers with the works. Just the smell of the greasy food made him want to puke as he unwrapped the burger, Iris watching him carefully the entire time.

Barry tried not to grimace as he took the first bite. He instantly felt the storm of nausea in his stomach return with full intensity. It took everything he had not to spit out the repulsive mush in his mouth. How had he ever enjoyed this? How had he ever eaten fifty of these burgers in one sitting?! It didn't even taste like food to him now. It was just a repulsive mix of ketchup, mustard, and pickles.

It was torture.

"Swallow, Barry," Iris said calmly, still watching him carefully.

Barry tried not to shudder as he forced himself to swallow, unable to stop himself from turning his head to the side in disgust as the bite of food slowly worked its way down his throat, protesting the entire way.

"What's wrong with you?" Iris asked quietly, studying his face, "Why can't you eat lately?"

"What do you mean?" Barry shrugged, trying to sound casual, "I'm eating."

"No, you're not," she retorted calmly, "You've barely eaten anything this past week. I'm a reporter, Barry. You really think I haven't noticed? You think I haven't noticed the weight you've lost?"

"I haven't lost weight," Barry denied, his heartrate picking up, "I've been eating just fine. What are you talking about?"

Iris sighed, her expression growing more irritated.

"What do you weigh?" she asked quietly.

"One-eighty-five," Barry lied, his throat becoming dry.

He had just weighed himself yesterday. He was one-seventy-one now. He had already lost fourteen pounds over the last three weeks since getting back from earth two, and he hadn't even started chemo yet.

It was only going to get worse.

"Why are you lying to me?" Iris whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "Do you think I'm stupid, Barry?"

"I…" Barry choked, "I'm not…"

He let out a heavy sigh then.

"Okay, I've lost a little weight," he admitted in a strained voice, "It's really not a big deal, though. Since I got my powers, my weight has always had a tendency to fluctuate every now and then. It's just a side effect of my metabolism, not anything to be concerned about."

"But your eating is," Iris persisted seriously, "Barry, I've seen you polish off three trays of lasagna by yourself. Now, you can't even eat a _burger_."

Barry let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face. He didn't know what to say. He should have known Iris would catch onto his lack of appetite eventually. He didn't think it would be this quickly, though. He shouldn't have underestimated her reporter skills.

"Bar," Iris said in a strained voice, "If you have some kind of…eating problem or something, you know it's okay to tell me, right? I can help you."

"I don't," Barry said quickly, "I don't have a—"

"It's not just women, you know," Iris said supportively, "Guys have issues with food too sometimes, and if this is something that you're dealing with, there's no shame in asking for h—"

"I'm not manorexic, Iris," Barry laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Then why aren't you eating?" Iris asked, not laughing with him.

The smile quickly slid from Barry's face, and he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"I don't have any eating issues," he assured her seriously, "I promise."

"Well, what is it then?" she pressed, tears welling in her eyes, "Is it stress? Is it earth two? You've been acting strange ever since you got back from there, Barry. What is it that you're not telling us?"

Barry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, running a hand through his hair.

"A lot happened on earth two," he said quietly after a moment, "It's not something I really want to talk about."

"Why?" Iris pressed, "Please, Barry, _talk_ to me. Tell me what's going on with you. You can't just keep everything in all the time. You need to lean on the people closest to you. I thought that was me. I thought you told me everything, but it feels like since you became the Flash, all you ever do is keep secrets from me. Do you realize how much that _hurts_ , Bar?"

Barry's hands balled up into fists under the table, his heart aching in his chest. He owed it to her. He owed Iris the truth. She didn't deserve to be constantly lied to, even if it was only for her own wellbeing. He couldn't tell her, though. It wasn't even about him or his fear of seeing her reaction. It was about her. Her job. Her happiness. She had worked so hard to establish her place at the CCPN, and now she had been given the opportunity of a lifetime, a career-altering opportunity.

He couldn't take that from her.

"We were married."

He didn't know why he said it. He didn't ever plan on telling Iris about their lives on earth two. He couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth, though. It was one less secret. It was one less secret for him to hide from her. He could at least tell her one truth. He owed her as much.

"W-what?" Iris asked, her eyes going wide.

Clearly she had not been expecting that answer.

"On earth two," Barry said quietly, "We were married."

Iris blinked at him, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as she processed his words.

"We were…"

"We lived in this house," Barry said in a strained voice, "On earth two, our doppelgangers. I was still a CSI, but you were the cop in the family. You were so amazing, Iris. So strong. And Joe…"

Barry shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips despite the tears forming in eyes.

"Joe was a lounge singer," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "He didn't like me too much, though. He didn't approve of our marriage."

Iris stared at Barry as he explained, her face screwed up in thought as she processed what he was telling her.

"We…" Barry choked, "We went to go see him perform. He had an _amazing_ voice. I wish you could have heard him."

A small, sad laugh escaped Barry's lips, but the smile quickly slid from his face as he took in a shaky breath.

"And then everything went wrong," he said quietly, his hands clenching into fists, "Some metas who worked for Zoom showed up. They knew I wasn't supposed to be there. A…a fight broke out, and…Joe got caught in the crossfire. He…he died, Iris."

"Barry…" Iris whispered, reaching out to put her hand over his.

Barry shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye.

"I know it wasn't really him," he choked, "It wasn't… _this_ _life_ , but…watching that happen in front of me, living that…it didn't feel any different because…it was all still _real_. And Jay warned me not to get emotionally sucked in when I went there…and that's exactly what happened."

Barry had to swallow back the lump in his throat as he spoke, tears now streaming freely down his face.

"And now Joe West on earth two is dead," he choked, "Because I showed up."

Iris had tears in her eyes now as she slowly shook her head.

"Barry," she whispered, "That's not your fault."

Barry nodded his head, staring down at the table as he wiped his eyes, finally allowing himself to voice aloud what he had been thinking ever since he had gotten back from earth two.

"Yeah, it is my fault," he choked, "It's all my fault. Zoom. Jay's death. It's all because of me. And then I just…left an entire _world_ at Zoom's mercy. I'm focusing on myself right now when other people are dying because of me."

Barry wiped the tears from his face, his breath hitching in his throat.

"I deserve this," he whispered to himself.

Iris shook her head and gave his hand a small squeeze.

"Barry," she said softly, "None of this is your fault. You don't deserve to be going through this pain. You're a _hero_ , Barry. You've done everything you can to keep people safe. You tried to stop Zoom. You rescued Jesse. Earth two was never your burden to bear, but you're carrying the weight of it like it is. It's time to let go of that now. Before it consumes you."

Barry nodded slowly and wiped his eyes. Her words weren't much consolation to him, though. It wasn't what Barry wanted to hear. He didn't want someone to tell him it wasn't his fault. That only made it worse. He wanted someone to finally say it out loud, that it _was_ his fault. He wanted Iris to rage and scream at him. He wanted someone else to take on some of the hatred he felt for himself.

He didn't want them defending him, defending the _perfect_ version of him that they had painted in Wally's head. Barry wanted them to blame him, to point their fingers at him and finally tell him like it was. He didn't want them to _comfort_ and swaddle him. Now that he was sick, though, he would be getting nothing but comfort and swaddling.

It didn't absolve him of his guilt, though.

"Is this why you haven't been eating?" Iris asked quietly, pulling him from his thoughts, "Guilt?"

Barry sucked in a strained breath and nodded.

"I guess so," he lied, "I just haven't had much of an appetite since I got back from earth two."

Iris gave his hand another small squeeze.

"I know you're dealing with a lot right now," she said quietly, "But you need to take care of yourself. _Please_ , Barry. Your health is important to me. I don't want to watch you waste away in front of me. I know you have a lot weighing on your mind, but you need to eat more, okay? For me?"

Barry wiped his face and nodded, giving her a sad smile. He then reached out for the food she had gotten him, determined to finish it in front of her.

He was hunched over the toilet for an hour after she left.


	8. No Time for Goodbye

**No Time for Goodbye**

* * *

Twenty minutes left. That was it. Just twenty minutes, and he'd be done with dialysis, hopefully for good. Hopefully, this would be his last session, and he'd never have to be hooked up to the dreaded machine again.

"It's important you get a good night's sleep tonight, Barry," Caitlin was telling him, "Eat whatever you can and drink plenty of fluids."

"Caitlin?" Barry said, giving her an uneasy look, "Do you think…maybe, we could wait a few days before starting chemo? Do we have to start it tomorrow?"

Caitlin frowned at him.

"Why would you want to wait?"

Barry sighed and shook his head.

"I just have a lot going on at work," he said quickly, "It'd be nice to have a few days to get things in order first."

"Barry," Joe said seriously, giving him a knowing look.

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"And, okay, yes," he said, "Iris is leaving in a couple days, and I wanted to wait until she was gone."

"Allen," Harry said, standing in the far corner of the room, "You know how important this is, right?"

Harry and Jesse had only just been told about Barry's situation, and both seemed fully intent on supporting him through it. Harry was taking it particularly seriously, considering he owed Barry his daughter's life. He was feeling immensely guilty that now, after everything, Barry was sick.

"I know it's important," Barry sighed, "I'm not trying to stall because I'm…scared or anything. I know we need to start my treatment right away. I just don't think it's a big deal to wait three more days. It will be so much easier to deal with all this once Iris is out of the way, especially since we don't know how well I'm going to tolerate the chemo."

"Speaking of which," Joe said seriously, "You need to take off of work, Bar."

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but Joe continued.

"You don't know how you're going to function with the chemo at first," he said reasonably, "If it's not too bad, maybe you can continue to work, but this is your first round of treatment. You need to take a few days off to see how you respond to it."

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, you're right," he admitted reluctantly, "I'll just use a few vacation days then."

"Or you could use sick days," Joe said gently, "You should just tell Singh what's going on, Bar. You're entitled to take a sick leave for this kind of thing. You only have so many vacation days to burn."

"I really don't want to tell him, Joe," Barry said in a strained voice.

"Singh would keep it confidential," Joe assured him, "It's not like the whole force would find out. I don't know why you're so worried about people knowing you're sick. It's all going to come out eventually. What difference does it make if it's now or later?"

Barry ran a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed by Joe's words. Joe was just trying to be real with him, trying to get Barry to face his reality. Barry wasn't in denial, though. He knew Joe was right. He knew everyone would know eventually. It did make a difference _when_ they found out, though.

"Work is the only place where I still feel normal," Barry said quietly, "When I'm there…it's easier to act like nothing's happening. I just…I want to hold onto that feeling a little longer."

Joe nodded sadly at Barry, putting a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

"Things aren't normal right now, Barry," he said somberly, his voice gentle, "I would give anything for this to not be happening to you, but it is. We can't ignore it."

Barry nodded and wiped his eyes.

"I called my dad yesterday," he whispered.

Everyone all gave him sad looks of understanding.

"Did you tell him?" Cisco asked quietly.

Barry looked down at the floor and shook his head.

"No," he mumbled, "I couldn't. I was going to, but…he sounded so happy. So carefree. I couldn't bring myself to tell him."

"Would it be easier if _I_ told him, Bar?" Joe asked sadly, "I could call him for you."

Barry quickly shook his head.

"No," he said, "No, it should come from me. He deserves to hear it from me. It's bad enough that he's already going to find out over the phone."

"Why isn't he here?" Jesse blurted angrily, "Why isn't he here with you? Caitlin told me he just got out of prison after being there for fourteen years. Why did he go and leave town then, instead of spending time with his son?"

"You don't know my dad," Barry defended, "He's been through a lot. He deserves a chance to roam free after being incarcerated for so long. He didn't _leave_ me. He just thought it would be best for me to not have him around. So I can be the Flash. He knows that being the Flash is important to me."

Barry looked down and realized how tightly his hands were clenched. He deflated then, a large breath escaping his chest as he hung his head.

"Barry," Caitlin said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I know," he said quietly, "I know I can't be the Flash right now. I can barely even _run_ anymore without getting dizzy. I can't protect this city the way I am now. It just…hurts. It hurts that I have to abandon everyone so I can take care of myself."

"There can't be a Flash if you're dead," Harry said seriously, "I know it sucks, Allen, but you need to take care of yourself now."

Barry nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

"I just want to get this over with quickly," he sighed, looking over to Caitlin, "I don't want you to hold back. Use the highest dose of chemo you can. Just get it over with. Hit me with everything you've got."

Caitlin nodded sadly at him.

"I'm giving you the most aggressive treatment I can," she assured him, "I'm not going light with it. If it's too much for you, though, Barry, you _need_ to tell me. I know you want to beat this thing as fast as possible, but if we do too much too fast, your body might not be able to handle it. Pushing yourself too hard could be counterproductive."

"What should we expect?" Joe asked nervously, "With the chemo, what should we be expecting?"

Caitlin gave Barry an uneasy look before answering Joe's question.

"Really, it's going to intensify the symptoms he already has," she told them, "Fatigue, lack of appetite, vomiting, fever, chills. It can cause difficulty breathing in some cases, and because of the tumors in his lungs, I'd say that's a strong possibility. We…we might start seeing some side effects from the brain tumor as well."

At these words, Barry's head whipped up, wide eyes locking with the doctor's.

"But I haven't been experiencing any cognitive effects," he said, a hint of fear in his voice.

"I know," Caitlin said quickly, "I know you haven't. I'm just saying it's a possibility. Chemo affects the brain just as much as other organs. Many people experience confusion. 'Chemo brain' is what it's referred to as."

"How severe of confusion are we talking, Caitlin?" Joe asked seriously.

Caitlin bit her lip, looking down at the floor.

"It's impossible to say," she said in a strained voice, "It affects everyone differently. Barry might not experience it at all. He might stay sharp the entire time he's going through treatment, or he might experience…dementia-like effects. The tumor is in his frontal lobe, an area of the brain that controls personality and cognitive reasoning. If he starts experiencing symptoms, the effects of the tumor could cause some…drastic changes in his thinking. All we can really do is wait and see."

Everyone nodded sadly at her explanation. Barry sucked in a deep breath and let it out shakily, giving Joe a small smile when he squeezed his shoulder.

"We'll get through this, Bar," Joe assured him, "You have nothing to be afraid of."

Barry smiled sadly at him and squeezed his hand.

"I know," he said quietly, "I'll be fine. I just need to get through this treatment and then my healing with have me back good as new again."

Joe nodded, and everyone in the room smiled encouragingly at Barry. Caitlin, however, was biting her lip, a nervous look on her face.

"Everyone, can I please have a moment alone with Barry?" she asked suddenly.

Everyone gave her confused looks but nodded. They all slowly filtered out of the room, glancing back curiously at them as they left. As soon as they were alone, Barry looked expectantly at Caitlin, who was still biting her lip.

"What is it, Caitlin?" he whispered.

He was expecting the worst, knowing full-well that Caitlin wouldn't have cleared the room unless she had something serious she needed to discuss with him.

"There's something I needed to tell you before you start your chemo," she said in a small voice.

Barry nodded, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he waited for her to continue. Caitlin took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair.

"Your regenerative healing should help you recover quickly once you get through treatment, but the chemo might have some…lasting effects."

"Lasting effects?" Barry whispered, his stomach clenching, "What lasting effects?"

"Chemotherapy," Caitlin said gently, "It can sometimes cause infertility."

Barry blinked at her. It was the last thing he had been expecting her to say. He had thought she was about to tell him something way more serious. His fertility had been the last thing on his mind.

"Oh," he said quietly, "I…I guess I kind of already knew that. It's…fine. It's not a big…"

Barry let out a heavy sigh, unable to continue his train of thought.

Now that he really thought about it, it _wasn't_ fine. Nothing about this whole thing was fine. What she was telling him was that even if they treated him and beat the cancer, he might never be able to father children. He would never be a parent. His family tree would die out with him. He would be the last Allen. The thought was like a punch to the gut for him.

"Barry," Caitlin said gently, "I know it's a lot to take in. It _is_ a big deal, which is why I want to give you time to process it."

"Why?" he asked, "It's not like giving me time is going to change it."

"Yes, but there are other things that I want you to consider. You still have other options available to you."

"Adoption," Barry sighed, "I know."

"Well, not just that," she said, "First of all, I want to make it clear that this isn't a sure thing. There's still a good chance that you won't lose your fertility. There's a chance that with your young age and your healing capabilities, you'll fully recover and won't have any problems with conception down the road. After your treatment, once you've reached remission, we can start looking at different treatments to help increase your chances of regaining fertility. There are different hormone replacement therapy options we can look at to increase sperm production."

She sighed before continuing.

"Also, there are some steps we can take to ensure that you can still have children later on, even if you don't regain fertility."

Barry stared at her curiously, waiting for her to continue.

"We could always store your sperm," she said gently, earning a slight blush from him, "Sperm banks last for about thirty to forty years and possibly even longer in your case. By saving your sperm now, we can ensure that one day when you're ready for children, you would still have the option available to you."

Barry sighed and buried his face in his hands as Caitlin surveyed him nervously. He would give anything not to be here right now, sitting in this medical room discussing with Caitlin how he could still possibly have children one day, given that he survives all the treatments he was about to go through. It was all too much.

"I'm going to give you some time," Caitlin said gently to him, "Go home. Think about it. I encourage you to do your own research on it. You can come back tomorrow with any questions you might have, and before we do your first treatment, we can look into the sperm banking option if you decide that that's something you want to do."

Barry lifted his face from his hands to look at her before nodding gratefully.

"Thanks, Caitlin," he said quietly.

His voice sounded miserable even to his own ears.

* * *

"I'll call you as soon as my plane lands," Iris promised her father, pulling him in for a hug.

"Be safe, baby girl," Joe said, his heart aching as he hugged her.

Iris smiled warmly at him as they broke apart. She moved to hug Barry then, but she suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes going wide.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped.

"What?" Joe and Barry both asked in unison.

"My carry-on!" Iris shrieked, "I left it at home!"

Joe let out a sigh of frustration. It was a two-hour drive to the airport, and Iris's plane was boarding in ten minutes. Iris suddenly turned to Barry then, giving him a pleading look. Joe's stomach plummeted.

No.

"I've got it," Barry assured her.

Joe's eyes went wide. Faster than he thought himself capable of, Joe shot his hand out and yanked on Barry's arm before he could take off.

"Barry," he gritted, firmly gripping Barry's arm.

"I've _got_ _it_ , Joe," Barry muttered, giving him a meaningful look.

Joe subtly shook his head, his eyes narrowing.

"We can send it to you," he said desperately, turning to Iris, "We'll ship it to you as soon as we get home."

Iris's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she asked incredulously, "It would take _days_ to get there! And I have all my necessities in it. I can't get on this plane without—"

Iris was cut off by a strong gust of wind. Joe's hand, which had been firmly gripping Barry's arm a moment ago, was now clutching at the air. Joe felt his chest constrict.

"What's wrong with you?" Iris asked him in confusion after Barry had taken off.

Joe didn't answer her. He spun around where he was standing, looking frantically through the airport, his stomach twisting as he waited for the streak of lightning to return.

Please. Let Barry get back safely.

As a few minutes went by, Joe's mind went into overdrive. What if he passed out? What if he got dizzy and ran into a car? What if he tripped and wiped out while moving at hundreds of miles per hour?

"Dad," Iris demanded, "What's wr—?"

A crack of lightning and a gust of air. Barry was suddenly standing in front of them, Iris's bag in hand.

"Thank God!" Iris sighed in relief, taking the bag from him, "Thank you so much, Bar! You're a lifesaver!"

Barry managed to give her an uneasy smile as he clutched his side, gasping for air.

"Go," he breathed, "You're going to miss your flight."

Iris grinned at him and pecked him on the cheek.

"I'll see you in a month," she said quickly, pulling him into a brief one-armed hug before slinging her bag over her shoulder, "Bye, guys!"

She waved happily at them as she rushed away, anxious to board her plane. Joe managed to utter a quick "bye" to her before turning his attention to Barry. He was white as a sheet, a sheer sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was hunched slightly where he stood, his legs shaking dangerously beneath him.

"Come, Barry," Joe said quickly, wrapping an arm around Barry's waist to guide him to a nearby bench.

Barry sank down into the seat with a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Joe sat next to him, watching him worriedly with his lips pressed tightly together, not saying anything.

"I'm sorry," Barry breathed after a moment, "I know I shouldn't be running."

"No, you shouldn't," Joe agreed seriously, watching Barry catch his breath with furrowed eyebrows, "That was a two-hundred mile run, Barry. What were you thinking?!"

"What was I _supposed_ to do?" Barry demanded, "How would I have explained it to her?"

Joe frowned and shook his head at him.

"I would have rather told her the truth than have you risking your health," he said gravely, "You could have passed out, Barry. You could have been hit by a car. Or you could have—"

"I'm not that fragile, Joe," Barry said irritably, "I ran it just fine. I'm just a little winded, that's all."

Joe shook his head seriously at him.

"You start chemo _tomorrow_ ," he said, "You're supposed to be taking it easy."

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice," Barry snapped, "I wasn't exactly going to tell her I'm sick five minutes before she gets on a plane to Kenya."

Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"We should get on the road," he sighed, "You need to get home so you can rest before your treatment tomorrow."

Barry nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. He was still pale, his skin now a slight grayish color. Joe frowned as he studied Barry's face.

"Come on," he said, "You can sleep in the car on the way home."

"I'm not that tired," Barry insisted as they stood up.

Joe rolled his eyes. Barry could be stubborn all he wanted, but he couldn't fool Joe. He looked dead on his feet. Sure enough, as soon as they were on the road, Barry was out like a light in the passenger seat.

He slept the entire ride home.


	9. Fine

Fine

* * *

Cisco stood awkwardly near the bed, not knowing what to do. He felt out of place. He had sometimes assisted Caitlin with basic medical procedures in the past, but that was always in emergencies, when there was a major trauma involved and she needed all the hands she could get. When Barry's life was on the line.

Right now, Barry's life _was_ on the line, but this was so different. He wasn't bleeding out. He wasn't poisoned or stabbed or whammied by some metahuman.

He was sick.

It wasn't like the coma either, and that was for two reasons: for one, Barry was awake. He was aware of his situation, alert and oriented to experience all of it. For another, Barry wasn't a stranger; he was Cisco's best friend. He was no longer just some random patient to treat, and they couldn't go into a panic doctor mode like they did when he had been hurt. They couldn't just focus on the medicine.

There were more emotions at play here.

"I'm going to insert the IV now, Barry," Caitlin said gently.

Barry nodded as he laid his head back against the pillow. He was wearing the gown again. He had tried to protest against it, but Caitlin said it was only so he could change his clothes with his IV in. The detachable sleeves made everything so much easier. Barry was still at least able to keep his sweatpants on, though.

Cisco's gut clenched slightly when he watched Caitlin put in the IV. Really, he had seen her insert countless IVs for Barry before, but this time was different. This time, the IV wasn't to deliver medicine or saline fluids.

They were injecting poison into Barry's veins.

Barry didn't even look scared, though. To Cisco's amazement, Barry's face was smooth, controlled.

Barry was calm.

"Wait," Cisco said suddenly, when Caitlin moved to attach the tubing.

Caitlin paused in her movements, giving him a questioning look. Barry was looking at him with a similar expression.

"We promised Joe we would wait for him," Cisco reminded them.

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"The medication is going to take at least a full hour to infuse," he said impatiently, "Joe will still get to be here for most of it. He doesn't have to be here when we start the infusion."

"Are you sure?" Caitlin asked, holding up the primed tubing in her hand, "We can wait for him."

"I'm sure," Barry said firmly, "I just want to get this over with."

"Alright," Caitlin sighed, "And are you sure you still want to go with the seventy milliliters? This is concentrated stuff, Barry. It's thirty-five units per—"

"I'm sure," Barry insisted, "I helped you create the CP22, Caitlin. I…I know how strong it is. I'm sure about the dosage."

Caitlin nodded sadly at him.

"Okay," she whispered.

Cisco felt a deep churning in his gut as he watched Caitlin attach the tubing and start the infusion.

"Just try to relax, Barry," she instructed as she adjusted the drip rate for the medication, "I'm going to infuse it slowly. It will take longer, but hopefully it will help your body acclimate gradually to the chemo."

Barry let out a heavy sigh, a less than pleased look on his face as he nodded. He let his head fall back against the pillow, closing his eyes. A few minutes passed in silence. Cisco wrung his hands as he stood there, watching Caitlin silently monitor Barry's vitals. He didn't know what to do. Harry and Jesse had left the room, deciding to give Barry space while he was receiving treatment. Cisco wondered awkwardly if he should have done the same. His presence didn't really serve a function here, and now the room had gone so awkwardly quiet.

After a few moments contemplation, Cisco decided against leaving. He was here to support his friend, even if doing so made him feel out of place. It shouldn't matter that he was uncomfortable. What mattered was supporting Barry.

With this thought in mind, Cisco circled around the bed, heading for the chair next to Barry's bedside. Barry's eyes opened when he heard Cisco sit down next to him. He looked over at Cisco and gave him a small smile as he held out his hand.

Cisco smiled and wiped a tear from his eye before taking it, giving Barry's hand a small squeeze.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Barry gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"Fine," he said calmly, "I don't even feel it yet."

"Trust me, Barry," Caitlin said sadly, staring at his EKG, "You're going to feel it. Within the next half hour or so, you'll notice its effects. You're only ten minutes in, and your heart waves are already changing now."

Barry took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'll be fine," he said quietly, taking deep shaky breaths, "I'm fine."

Within the next thirty minutes, however, Caitlin made good on her promise. Forty minutes into his infusion, Barry started to sweat.

"You doing okay, man?" Cisco asked sadly.

Barry nodded as a shudder ran through him.

"I'm starting to feel it now," he admitted.

"What are you feeling, Barry?" Caitlin asked gently, "Can you describe the effects?"

Barry nodded and sucked in a sharp breath as he rubbed his temple.

"My head is killing me," he said, "It feels like it's going to split in two. And I'm _freezing_. I can't stop shivering."

"You're burning up," Caitlin said, feeling his forehead, "You have a fever."

"But I have the chills," Barry insisted, a shudder running through him, "I need some more blankets."

"I'm sorry, Barry," Caitlin said softly, an apologetic look on her face, "I'm trying to keep your temperature _down_ right now. You'll just have to endure it. I'm so sorry."

Barry sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He gave Cisco's hand a small squeeze, and Cisco squeezed it back. Then, out of nowhere, Cisco suddenly gasped and yanked his hand out of Barry's, clutching it to his chest.

"Did you just _shock_ me, man?" Cisco gasped, curling and stretching his numb fingers.

"Did I?" Barry asked in confusion.

"You definitely did," Cisco chuckled, giving his hand a small shake to regain feeling.

Barry frowned at him. He had never done that before. Granted, Iris said she had been shocked by him once when he was in his coma, but that was different. He had been unconscious at the time. He was awake now, and he had full control of his powers. Or at least, he thought he did.

"I'm sorry," Barry said quietly.

"It's alright," Cisco assured him with a small laugh, "It just scared the shit out of me."

Barry laughed lightly. Cisco couldn't help but smile. He couldn't believe Barry was actually laughing while getting a chemotherapy treatment right now.

"What's so funny?" a voice came from the doorway.

The three of them all looked up to see Joe standing there, a confused look on his face. His eyes widened when they landed on the tubing in Barry's arm.

"You started?!" he asked, spinning on Caitlin, "You started without me?"

"Joe," Barry said, "I told her to start the infusion. I just wanted to get it over with."

Joe shook his head, a hurt look on his face. He deflated slightly then, letting out a heavy sigh as he took the chair next to Cisco by Barry's bed.

"I know I'm late," he sighed as he sank down in the chair, "I told Singh I was only going in for a half day today, but then a case came up right near the end of my shift and—"

"Joe," Barry cut him off, "It's fine. You didn't miss anything. I'm doing perfectly fine."

Joe gave Barry a surveying look, disbelief in his eyes as he looked Barry up and down.

"How's he doing?" he asked Caitlin then, to Barry's annoyance, "How's he doing, really?"

Caitlin gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"Better than I was expecting," she said softly, "His vitals are steady, and he's still awake and talking to us, which I consider impressive at this point."

"I'm fine," Barry insisted again, "I feel fine. I just have a headache and a slight fever, nothing I can't handle."

Joe smiled proudly at Barry and put a hand on his shoulder.

"That's my boy," he said softly, earning a small smile from Barry.

Unfortunately, Barry wasn't able to stay smiling for very long. Another twenty minutes went by, and once Barry reached the hour mark, he wasn't able to hide his discomfort any longer. His skin took on a sickly greenish tint, and Barry started to talk less and less. He just laid in bed, shivering uncontrollably with his eyes closed.

"Barry?" Caitlin asked, "Are you still doing okay?"

"Fine," Barry mumbled without opening his eyes, not saying another word.

"Are you feeling nauseated, Barry?" Caitlin asked sadly.

"No."

"Can I get you some water or anything?"

"No."

Caitlin let out a tired sigh, not satisfied with his one-word replies. Barry was intentionally saying as little as possible, and she knew the reason. Barry looked like he was trying with all his might not to puke in front of them.

"Here," Caitlin sighed, pressing an emesis basin into his hands.

Barry opened his eyes, looked at it, and nodded. He didn't even try to fight it then. He threw up immediately, finally allowing himself to be sick. Their stomachs all churned in sympathy as they watched Barry gag repeatedly. He seemed like he wasn't going to stop, even though very little was even coming up. He was mostly dry heaving.

At least he wasn't holding it back for their benefit anymore.

"I'm sorry," Barry sighed when Caitlin finally took the emesis basin away from him.

"Don't apologize, Bar," Joe said, rubbing small circles into the back of Barry's hand, "You're doing so good."

"M'tired," Barry mumbled, his eyes sliding shut.

"It's okay, Barry," Caitlin soothed, "Don't try to fight it. Just let yourself rest."

"'Kay," Barry mumbled tiredly, his eyes closed.

A moment later, a soft rumbling sound whirred in the back of Barry's throat as he allowed himself to fall asleep. They all couldn't help but be relieved. It had been painful to watch Barry fight it for so long.

"He's so damn stubborn," Joe sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at Barry.

"Agreed," Caitlin said tiredly, rubbing her eyes, "I've been waiting for him to pass out for the last half hour. He fought it longer than I thought he would."

"I'm going to go call Iris," Joe sighed, "She called me thirty minutes ago, but I let it go to voicemail. I was trying to get here as fast as possible."

As Joe stood and left the room, Caitlin returned her attention to Barry's heart monitor, mumbling something about vomiting and electrolyte imbalances. She stared at Barry's monitor with scary intensity, even for a doctor. Cisco, however, was looking at Barry's face.

He was still sound asleep, his forehead slightly crinkled, even as he rested. God, he was so pale. Cisco didn't think Barry could even _get_ any whiter, but Barry had definitely proved him wrong. His skin looked like it was made of porcelain.

Cisco desperately hoped it wouldn't get much worse than this. This, they could handle. Barry was strong. He could handle coming in for a couple hours every week to throw up a little and take a nap. As long as this was the worst it got, Barry would be fine. It would suck, but he would be fine. He was strong enough to make it through this.

Cisco just wished he knew what to expect.

He sucked in a small breath then when an idea suddenly occurred to him. Cisco glanced nervously at Caitlin, who was still watching Barry's EKG, jotting down notes, and then he looked at Barry again.

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. Barry wouldn't want him to.

But how could Cisco not? There was so much uncertainty surrounding Barry's illness right now. Cisco had to know.

With another nervous glance at Barry's sleeping face, Cisco slowly reached his hand out, gently wrapping his fingers around Barry's limp hand. His vision shifted almost immediately. Cisco sucked in a breath as a room appeared before him.

It was the same room. He was still in the med bay. But everything was so different.

Someone was screaming.

"We can still save him!"

Iris was fighting with her father, throwing punches and elbows as she tried to free herself from his grasp.

"It's not too late! We can save Barry!"

Everyone else was in the room, too, including Henry and Wally. They all were looking at the bed. Cisco took a deep breath before following their gaze. When his eyes landed on Barry, his blood ran cold.

He didn't even _look_ like Barry anymore. He looked like a stranger. His hair was gone, and his face was nearly unrecognizable with how gaunt it had become. Had Cisco thought Barry couldn't get any paler? Well, it appeared he could, except now he was more than just white.

His skin was _translucent_.

Countless machines were attached to Barry, tangling together in a mess of medical tubes and wires. An oxygen mask covered most of Barry's face, but not enough so that Cisco couldn't see the dark circles under his closed eyes or the dried tearstains down his cheeks. Cisco took all of this in for a moment, numbed by shock. That's why he didn't immediately notice the straight line glaring on Barry's EKG.

Barry's heart wasn't beating.

Joe sobbed as he struggled to hold onto his hysterical daughter.

"We can't, Iris. It's not what Barry wants," he cried, "We have to let him go."

"Dad, please!" Iris shouted, now practically hitting him to try to get to Barry.

Cisco stared at the scene in disbelief. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?! Barry was coding! Cisco saw himself standing on the other side of the room, a haunted look on his face. Why wasn't he _doing_ something?!

Iris seemed to be the only one sharing these thoughts.

"What's wrong with all of you?!" she yelled at them, "Why are you all just standing there?! Save him!"

They all looked brokenly at her, no one moving.

"Iris," Caitlin said gently, "It's not what Barry wants. He knew what he was doing when he made his decision, and we need to honor that. We told him that we wouldn't interfere if he coded again."

"But we can save him!" she cried, "We have what we need to save him now!"

"It's too late, Iris," Henry choked, stepping forward, "I know I owe Barry my life, and I wish more than anything that I could repay that debt, but it's too late. Even if he survives the procedure, we'd still be putting him through—"

"I'm _not_ going to let it end like this!" Iris screamed, "I'm not going to let him give up! We can't let Zoom win like this!"

In an instant, Iris landed a sharp elbow to her father's gut and finally broke free from his hold. She scrambled over to Barry, placing her hands on the center of his bare chest to push down on it with all her might.

"Help me!" Iris cried to the others, " _Please_! Help! It's too soon! I'm not ready! I can't lose him! Please!"

Cisco could barely breathe as he watched Iris futilely try to save Barry. She leaned over and gave him two rescue breaths before resuming her compressions.

"Why are you all just standing there?!" she sobbed, "Why aren't you people moving?!"

"Please, Iris," Caitlin choked, "It's time to let go."

Cisco gasped when the vibe faded and he was pulled back into the room he was in before. The same room. The room where Barry was going to die. He sucked in a strained breath as he slid his fingers out of Barry's limp hand.

He couldn't look at him. He couldn't even look at Barry right now, knowing what he now knew.

"Cisco?"

Cisco looked up. As he blinked past the tears in his eyes, Caitlin's face slowly swam into view, a concerned expression occupying its features.

"What is it, Cisco?" she asked, "What's wrong?"

To Cisco's anguish, Barry stirred in the bed. He let out a light groan as his eyes flickered open. Cisco's stomach clenched as he looked at Barry, his mind flashing back and forth between the Barry in front of him and the Barry he had seen in his vibe. Barry was going to get so much worse. Cisco didn't know _when_. He didn't know when his vibe would come to pass…but it felt close. It felt way too close. Barry was going to get very sick, very fast.

And he was going to give up. Barry was going to give up.

"Are you okay?" Barry asked him, rubbing his eyes.

Cisco opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.

"F-fine," he whispered, his mouth dry, "I'm sorry. I…I guess this is all just hitting me at once."

He tried to offer Barry a reassuring smile, but it felt painful on his face. Barry's lips twitched as he reached out and took Cisco's hand, making his stomach clench.

"I'm going to be fine, Cisco," Barry assured him, giving his hand a small squeeze, "I'm going to fight like hell to beat this thing. I'm going to be just fine."

Cisco thought he was going to be sick.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up from his chair, "I'm going to go get some air."

Barry nodded sadly at him.

"It's okay," he said quietly, "I understand."

Cisco could hardly look at Barry as he left the room.

He didn't know how he was going to look at Barry ever again.

* * *

Joe sat by Barry's bedside all night. Harry and Jesse had already turned in for the evening, and Cisco had been the first to leave, apologizing profusely as he left STAR Labs as fast as his legs could carry him. Joe didn't hold it against him, though. He understood how Cisco was feeling. It was hard to witness this.

Barry wasn't taking the chemo well now. Joe didn't know why he had thought it would be easier once they finished the infusion. Really, the infusion was just a small part of the treatment process. The hard part came later. Caitlin had told them the effects of the chemo would continue to set in over the next couple days. Joe had just been hopeful that wouldn't be the case.

Caitlin was currently in the bathroom, rinsing out Barry's emesis basin. Joe had lost count over how many times Barry had been sick. It seemed like every twenty minutes or so Barry would wake up gagging. Caitlin was giving him fluids continuously, but they couldn't get any food into his stomach. Barry couldn't even look at it when they offered him something to eat. They stopped trying when they realized their offers were only making him sicker. Just the sight of food had Barry gagging.

Joe let out a shaky sigh as he ran his fingers through Barry's hair. Barry was sweating profusely. At the same time, he was shivering. Caitlin had been fighting with him all night over the number of blankets she would allow him. She wanted to keep his temperature down. Eventually, though, she gave up the fight, deciding his comfort was more important.

Even then, Barry hardly slept.

"Joe?" Barry whispered in the darkness, rousing Joe from his thoughts.

"I'm here," Joe said softly, sliding his hand into Barry's, "I'm still here, Bar."

"Everything's red," Barry mumbled tiredly.

Joe frowned at him.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I d'know," Barry mumbled in exhaustion, "Never mind."

"What do you mean, Bar?" Joe pressed, leaning forward in his chair, "What do you mean everything's red?"

"My vision," Barry murmured, closing his eyes, "I keep seeing colors."

Barry yawned and turned over in bed, his eyes still closed.

"Eight percent," he breathed, drifting back into sleep, "Eight percent."

Joe felt a lump form in his throat as he ran a hand through Barry's hair. He wasn't making any sense. Granted, it was the middle of the night. Joe hoped this was just the exhaustion speaking and not anything worse. Barry had been sick all night. It was understandable for him to be a little confused. Besides, Barry had always been a sleep-talker. This was normal for him. It wasn't the cancer.

It couldn't be the cancer. Barry was fine.

He was going to be just fine.


	10. Cheers to the Weakened

Cheers to the Weakened

* * *

Maybe he should try the soup again. He had had luck with it yesterday, getting Barry to eat about half a bowl. Soup wasn't very nutritious, though. It was mostly broth and sodium, which would probably help balance out Barry's electrolytes after all the vomiting he had done, but it wouldn't provide him with the calories he desperately needed.

Mixing calorie powder in the soup had been a big mistake. Barry had told him not to do it, saying it would make him sick. Joe wished he had listened to him. He was just so desperate to get more calories into Barry, he had decided it was worth the risk.

Barry was stuck on the bathroom floor for two hours after that, vomiting repeatedly into the toilet bowl. Joe felt even worse when Barry didn't even get mad at him for it. He just made him promise not to do it again.

Joe was quickly learning he needed to trust Barry's judgement. Barry knew what he could handle and what he couldn't, and while he still needed some persuading from Joe to eat, Joe knew he had to listen to Barry more. Barry knew what he needed. The only problem was, he wasn't very good at communicating it. It was impossible for Joe to tell when Barry was actually okay or when he needed something.

Barry wasn't very keen to ask.

It had led to a few arguments between them. Joe just wanted Barry to be honest with him. Barry was trying so hard to downplay everything, making it difficult for Joe to take care of him. Barry was just trying to put on a brave face. Joe wished he wouldn't.

Tired of fighting with Barry, Joe gave up and retreated down the stairs for the sixth time that day, an untouched bowl of soup in his hands. Barry had gotten his chemo two days ago, and he was still unable to keep much food down. Joe had stayed home with him, unable to do much as he watched Barry alternate between his bed and the bathroom floor. At least it was the weekend now, and neither of them had to take off of work.

However, with the weekend came other problems.

"Hey, dad," Wally greeted as he came in through the front door.

Joe had completely forgotten Wally was coming home to do laundry this weekend.

"Hey, Wall," Joe said, forcing a smile, "How was your week?"

"Not bad," Wally shrugged, setting his laundry basket on the kitchen counter, "Yours?"

Joe forced a small smile onto his face.

"Fine," he mumbled.

He walked silently over to the cupboard to pull out a plastic container for Barry's soup, hoping to save it and try again later.

"What's for dinner?" Wally asked, "We're not completely screwed without Iris now, are we?"

Joe managed a small laugh.

"She made us a few dishes before she left," he chuckled, "I just need to toss them in the oven."

Joe moved to the fridge, setting Barry's soup on the shelf before pulling out the tray of lasagna Iris had prepared for them. It was Barry's favorite. Maybe he'd be able to sway Barry into eating some of it later if he was feeling up to it. If he could just get Barry to _eat_ something, Joe was convinced Barry would be feeling a lot better. Two full days of only eating a few bites of soup here and there couldn't be good for him. It was probably why Barry was so weak and shaky every time he walked to the bathroom to be sick.

He was starving.

"How are your classes going?" Joe asked quietly as he pulled out the tray of lasagna.

"Fine," Wally shrugged, taking a seat at the kitchen table, "I just submitted my finished application project for the engineering program. Wanna take a look?"

Joe smiled as he set the timer on the oven.

"Of course."

As Joe sat down at the kitchen table next to Wally, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt stir in his stomach. He knew there was nothing wrong with him spending time with his son, but it somehow felt wrong to be just sitting here with Wally when Barry was upstairs struggling. Joe had just checked on him, though. Barry was sleeping in bed. He was tossing and turning, alternating between piling blankets on top of himself and kicking them off of him, but there wasn't much Joe could do for him at this point.

So why did this feel so wrong?

Joe knew the answer to that question, though. He just didn't let himself think it often. It felt wrong because it felt like he was trying to replace Barry with his other son. Spending time with Wally felt like he was trying to forget about Barry.

That's exactly what he was doing, though, wasn't it? Distracting himself?

Joe couldn't lie. It felt good to focus on something other than his sick son for a while. Barry was always in the back of his mind, but reading through Wally's engineering project was a welcome distraction, even if Joe didn't understand most of it.

"You're a really slow reader," Wally said impatiently.

Joe held up a finger, his eyes still on the screen. He couldn't help but laugh. What his son had designed was _impressive_.

"So?" Wally asked, a smile forming on his face.

"I want one of these super cars," Joe laughed, shaking his head, " _Man_ , Wally. I'm so impressed."

Wally gave him a small smile, but it quickly slid from his face, his expression becoming somewhat sour.

"Thanks," he muttered, "But Barry gave me a lot of help."

It didn't escape Joe's notice when Wally rolled his eyes with these words.

"Yeah, he did," Joe said gently, "But this was all your idea. It was all _your_ hard work. It was all _you_. Barry would say the same thing."

Wally looked down at the table, his eyebrows raising in skepticism.

"Would he?" he muttered.

The smile then slid from Joe's face. He let out a heavy sigh as he slowly closed the laptop. He didn't care what Barry had said. He needed to have a talk with his son. It wasn't just the cancer that Wally was ignorant to. Wally didn't even know Barry's full history, only that he was in the foster system and had been living with them for half his life. Joe thought it was about time Wally understood.

At least, some of it.

"Look, Wally," Joe sighed, waiting for Wally to look up before continuing, "Iris and I took Barry in when he was eleven. And the reason he came to live with us is because…his mother was murdered…and his father was wrongfully imprisoned for it."

Wally's eyes flitted down towards the table as he took in what Joe was telling him. Joe knew Barry wouldn't want him to share all this personal information, but Wally needed to understand. He needed to know why he and Iris talked about Barry the way they did.

"And I have been overprotective of that kid since that day," Joe continued seriously, "We gave him…all of the love and support that he needed to get through that tragedy and…become the man he is now."

Wally shook his head slightly, still looking down at the table. The hard expression on his face wavered slightly, but he quickly fought to pull it back up again.

"So, that…" Joe sighed, "That _pride_ you see when Iris and I are talking about him is because…things could have gone very differently."

"And I get that," Wally muttered, looking up from the table, "I get that he's a part of your family, but…where is he? He's home right now, right? But he's hiding out in his room like always. He doesn't ever want to spend time with us. He's always running off, doing his own thing. He has _zero_ interest in getting to know me."

Joe shook his head sadly at him. God, he wished he could just tell him the truth.

"Barry is dealing with a lot right now," Joe sighed, "Trust me, Wally, he'd give anything to be here, participating in our family, but…he's got a lot of personal things going on right now."

"And that's an excuse?" Wally persisted, "We all have things going on right now. I just lost my _mother_ , but you don't see me holing myself up in my room right now."

Joe shook his head and let out a shaky sigh, trying to control his frustration.

"Barry's doing the best he can right now with the cards he's been dealt," he said seriously, a hint of anger working its way into his voice, "And he _has_ been trying, Wally. He's been trying to get to know you, but you've been making that very difficult for him."

"Oh, sorry," Wally scoffed, standing up from his seat, "I didn't mean to make things so difficult for _precious, perfect Barry_."

"I never said he was perfect," Joe said in frustration, "I know he's not perfect, Wally. He makes mistakes just like anyone else, and he's not _favored_ over you or Iris or anybody else. So you have nothing to worry about. He's my son, just like you are."

Wally shook his head, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"I'm going to go hang out with some friends," he gritted, "I'll see you later."

" _Wally_ ," Joe snapped, but Wally ignored him, crossing the room and wrenching the front door open.

He paused in his tracks, however, when he unexpectedly came face to face with another person on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," Caitlin said awkwardly, "I was just about to knock."

She gave Wally a small smile then.

"I don't think we've officially met yet," she said pleasantly, "I'm Caitlin, Barry's friend."

Wally let out a heavy sigh as he reached out to shake the doctor's hand.

"Wally," he said stiffly, "Joe's son."

"It's nice to officially meet you, Wally," Caitlin said kindly.

She glanced into the living room then, looking around.

"Is Barry here?"

Wally let out a humorless laugh.

"Who ever knows?" he muttered before brushing past Caitlin in the doorway.

Caitlin watched him leave with a confused expression on her face. She turned back around then, giving Joe a questioning look.

"Don't mind him," Joe sighed, walking over to the doorway to shut the front door, "He just doesn't understand everything that's going on."

"Barry hasn't told him yet?" Caitlin asked sadly.

Joe shook his head.

"They still barely know each other," he said quietly, "It's a lot of heavy information to drop on someone you just met."

Joe let out a heavy sigh and decided to move past the subject.

"Barry's upstairs," he told her, "He's been sleeping all day."

Caitlin nodded and gave Joe a sad smile.

"That's to be expected," she assured him, "How has his eating been?"

Joe ran a hand tiredly over his face.

"Terrible," he sighed, "He hasn't been able to keep much down. He spent half the night on the bathroom floor."

Caitlin nodded sadly.

"I have a few more antiemetics to try for his nausea," she said quietly, "Hopefully these ones will help him."

Joe nodded gratefully, but he couldn't let himself feel too hopeful. Caitlin had already tried several of those medications with Barry. None of them seemed to help his nausea in the slightest.

"He wants to go to work," Joe said quietly, "Barry's hellbent on recovering enough this weekend to go to work on Monday."

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.

"And you can't talk him out of it?" she asked gently.

"Have you _met_ Barry?" Joe said with a humorless laugh, "No. Once he has his mind set on something, little can be done to change it."

Caitlin nodded and ran a hand through her hair.

"I suppose it depends on how he's feeling," she sighed, "If he's feeling up for it, he can try going to work. I don't like the idea at all, but you're right. We're not really going to be able to stop him."

"I compromised with him," Joe told her, "I said he could continue trying to work as long as he tells Singh what's going on. The captain needs to be informed of the situation. Barry's not too happy about it, but he agreed to telling Singh on Monday."

"That's good," Caitlin sighed, "But you know there's someone else he needs to tell more."

Joe nodded sadly.

"I've been trying to get him to call Henry," he told her, "But he can't do it. He's terrified. He's terrified of his dad's reaction. He doesn't want to burden him with the information."

"But Henry deserves to know," Caitlin said firmly.

"Hey, you don't need to tell _me_ that," Joe assured her, "I agree with you one-hundred percent. Barry needs all the support he can get, and not that I'm doubting your medical skills or anything, but I wouldn't be against having another doctor around. The more heads we have together, working on this, the better."

"I can't expect Henry to treat his own son," Caitlin said quietly, "He needs to be a father to Barry first."

"I could say the same thing about you," Joe said gently, "You know it's okay to be more than just his doctor, right? Barry needs more than just Caitlin Snow, MD. He needs his friend."

Caitlin gave Joe a sad smile.

"I know," she said softly, "I'm trying my best to be both for him right now, but…sometimes it's easier to hide behind the medicine."

Joe nodded sadly in understanding, and Caitlin let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to go examine him," she said quietly, "I'll try not to disturb him too much."

Joe nodded, and then, struck by a sudden thought, he rushed into the kitchen, returning just a moment later.

"Here," he said, handing Caitlin a plate of lasagna, "It's his favorite. Maybe you'll have more luck."

Caitlin gave him a sad smile as she took the plate from him.

"I'll try my best."

* * *

Barry kicked the blankets off him in frustration. He never even sweated this much when he was _running_. His clothes felt wet and sticky, clinging to his skin in the worst way. It wasn't long before Barry tore those off, too, leaving him in just his boxers. It didn't help much, considering the sheets beneath him were also soaked with sweat.

He just wanted to get out of this God-awful bed, with its soaked sheets and hard springs. He never realized just how uncomfortable his bed was until he started chemotherapy. His aching body seemed to notice every bump, every crinkle in the bedsheets. Barry had grown to hate sleeping. He had grown to hate his bed with a passion now.

At the same time, he didn't think he'd ever be able to leave it. He was just so _tired_. No. More than that. He was _tired_ of being _tired_. He just wanted to get up, but his body wouldn't let him. He was sick to death of sleeping, but he couldn't make himself get out of bed.

Only when he was vomiting.

Even then, Barry often made use of the large bowl Joe had set near the bed. He only went to the bathroom when the vomiting didn't stop. Sleeping on the bathroom floor was the absolute worst. Joe had a second pillow and blanket in there for him now, but it didn't make the hard tile floor much more comfortable.

Barry didn't think _anything_ could make him comfortable.

With another sigh of frustration, Barry turned over again, trying to find a position that would allow him to finally sleep, even if it was just for a couple minutes. He impatiently beat the lumps out of his pillow, flipping it over so the cooler side was face-up. His neck was so stiff and sore from lying in bed. His entire _body_ was. He had terrible cramping in his legs, and his arms somehow felt as if they had _both_ fallen asleep, as if he had slept on them the wrong way.

Just when Barry thought he had finally found a good position, a soft groan escaped his lips. He was shivering again. Two seconds ago, he had been sweating, and now he felt like he had been dunked into a bucket of ice water. The sweat was cold on his skin, and the cold air of the room sent goosebumps rippling across his entire body.

And his blankets were on the floor.

Barry desperately wished he hadn't kicked them off now. He could sit up and grab them if he really wanted to, but Barry was too exhausted. Also, he didn't want to risk getting sick. His stomach was only just starting to settle after the last round of vomiting, and he somehow just knew that sitting up and moving around would only aggravate it again. He really didn't feel like puking right now. His throat was already raw and sore from vomiting up nothing but stomach acid over the last couple days, and the thought of puking right now made Barry want to cry.

He was just so _tired_.

"Barry?" a soft voice said from the doorway.

Barry's eyes snapped open instantly, his vision slightly blurred as they landed on the doctor standing in the doorway.

"I'm so sorry to wake you," Caitlin said quietly, a sad, pitying expression crossing her face as she took in his disheveled state.

"I wasn't sleeping anyways," Barry sighed, turning onto his back.

He knew he should feel awkward to just be laying here in his boxers in front of her right now, but he found that he didn't have the energy to care at the moment.

"How are you feeling?" Caitlin asked sadly.

"I'm freezing," Barry sighed, "Could you grab my blankets there for me? I was stupid and pushed them on the floor."

"Sure, Barry," she said softly, retrieving the blankets for him.

Barry sighed in relief when the blankets fell over him. He wasn't warm by any means, but it was better than the frigid air of the room. Barry smiled up at Caitlin in thanks, but the smile quickly slid from his face when he saw what was in her hands.

"Not you too," he groaned, turning his face away from the food in disgust, "I'm not—"

"I know you're not hungry," Caitlin said quickly, "I'm not here to force anything on you, Barry. I just told Joe I would try."

Barry let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

"Could you please set it over there?" he asked, tilting his head to the dresser on the far side of the room, "I can't even look at it."

"Are you sure you don't want to try a bite?" Caitlin asked gently, "Maybe you'll like it."

"I want to puke just from the _smell_ of it, Caitlin," Barry said seriously, "Can you please just get it away from me?"

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh and did as he asked, placing the plate of food on the far side of the room.

"I have a few new meds for you," she said softly.

" _More_?" Barry asked, giving her an uneasy look, "It's not more multivitamins, is it? Because those are _impossible_ to keep down, Cait."

"Only one of them is a vitamin," Caitlin said gently, "And you know, if you took them with food, they wouldn't upset your stomach so much."

Barry closed his eyes in frustration, not saying anything in response. Thankfully, Caitlin spared him the lecture and decided to quickly move past the subject.

"I have two new antiemetics for your nausea and some furosemide for your kidneys," she told him, "Have you been taking all your meds, Barry?"

"Joe's been making sure I take them," Barry assured her, "But it doesn't do much good when I throw them up immediately. They're too potent."

Caitlin let out a heavy sigh. The meds she had him on were ten times more potent than normal medication. They had to be, in order to surpass his metabolism, but their potency didn't do any favors for his stomach.

"I might have to administer them intravenously then," she said quietly, "You really need them, and if you can't take them orally, I'll have to keep you on an IV."

Barry sighed and nodded silently. He had been expecting her to say that. He hated the idea of being attached to an IV stand twenty-four-seven, but he knew it would be the only way he could take all the medications she had him on.

"It might help with your appetite," Caitlin said gently, giving him a hopeful smile, "You won't have to take as many pills, and the meds will make you feel better. They'll give you more energy."

Barry's lips twitched slightly.

"That would be nice," he sighed, "I'm tired of sleeping."

Caitlin gave Barry a sympathetic look.

"You should be trying to get all the rest you can, though," she said quietly, "It's normal for chemotherapy. Really, you're handling it a lot better than I thought you would, considering the high dose we started you out at."

"Can we go higher next time?" Barry asked seriously, "Can we increase the dosage?"

Caitlin frowned at him.

"Barry…"

"I can handle more," Barry insisted, shuddering internally at his words, "I can do this."

"Why don't we just keep you at the dosage you're at for a couple weeks?" Caitlin said gently, "I don't want to push it."

"And I don't want to do this half-assed," Barry said seriously, "My…my chances aren't good, Caitlin. You and I both know that. You know we need to be as aggressive as possible."

"I know," she said in a strained voice, "I know, Barry, it's just…"

"You're being soft," Barry accused, "You're treating me with kid gloves because I'm your friend. I know you mean well, but…Caitlin, you can't let friendship get in the way. Please don't ease up on my treatment just to spare me some pain. I can handle this."

"I know you can, Barry," Caitlin said quietly, tears forming in her eyes, "I just…I don't know what I'd do if I made a mistake. If I gave you too much of the CP22, you could go into respiratory failure. Your heart could _stop_. Your body could shut down on you if it's not strong enough to handle the chemo. I know _mentally_ you can handle it, but physically…you're not doing well, Barry. You're not eating. You're going to keep getting weaker, and increasing the dosage before we fully understand your physical capabilities is way too risky to attempt at this point."

Barry let out a heavy sigh of frustration. He knew she was right. He wasn't necessarily frustrated with _her_. He was frustrated with himself, with his body. Mentally, he was prepared to fight this thing with everything he had, but physically, he was fragile and weak. His body was betraying him, and there was nothing Barry could do about it, despite his mental strength. The entire situation was just infuriating.

"Okay," he said quietly, "We'll keep the dosage the same for now. I…I'm going to try harder. I'm going to try harder to eat, to gain strength so I can handle more."

Caitlin nodded sadly at him, a relieved look on her face.

"Has Cisco stopped by?" she asked quietly, changing the subject.

Barry swallowed and shook his head.

"No," he said softly, "I haven't heard from him since Thursday, when I was getting my infusion."

Caitlin frowned at him, a thoughtful look on her face.

"It's fine, Caitlin," Barry assured her quickly, "I'm not really up for visitors right now anyways."

"I know," she said slowly, "It's just…I haven't heard from him either."

"He's just processing everything," Barry said surely, "He's been taking this whole thing really hard, harder than _I_ have. I understand, and I don't blame him for it."

Caitlin nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. After a moment, she sighed and reached for her medical bag.

"Is it okay if I give you a quick check-up?" she asked softly, "I just wanted to check your vitals and draw some blood."

Barry gave her a small smile as he held out his arm.

"I swear, I'm starting to think you're a vampire at this point, with all the blood you've been drawing," he teased.

It worked. Caitlin managed a small laugh at his lame joke. Barry grinned at her. It was all he wanted. He wanted to do everything he could to keep them all smiling. He didn't want them to be sad all the time just because he was sick.

When they smiled, he almost felt better.


	11. Identity

**Identity**

* * *

Today was a mistake. This whole thing was one huge, stupid mistake. Barry shouldn't even be out of _bed_ , let alone at work. Joe had done everything he could to try to convince Barry to stay home. He even tried the alarm clock thing again, but Barry had been one step ahead of him, setting a backup alarm on his cellphone.

He looked so exhausted, dead on his feet as he got dressed and combed his hair before work. The circles under his eyes looked darker than ever, and Barry didn't so much walk into the CCPD as he did shuffle. Joe had to refrain himself from escorting Barry to his lab, his stomach twisting with worry as he watched Barry titer sluggishly up the stairs.

He really shouldn't be here.

Joe had reluctantly promised to give Barry space once they were at work, but that was a lot easier said than done. Barry had spent his entire weekend in bed. He had only just started to feel better last night, and even then, he was still feeling terrible. Barry didn't belong at work right now. He shouldn't even be on his feet.

"Joe," Barry groaned when Joe walked into his lab, "It hasn't even been an _hour_ yet."

"I know, I know," Joe sighed, "I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. A lot of cases stacked up this weekend, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to take some of the work load off your hands."

"You're a detective, Joe," Barry said needlessly, "This is CSI work— _my_ work—and I intend to finish it on my own."

"Still," Joe persisted, "If you need any samples from the field, I can get them for you. I don't want you leaving the precinct today."

"That's _half my job_ ," Barry groaned, "And in some ways, it's my favorite part. I _like_ going out in the field, Joe."

"I know you do," Joe sighed, "But I'd feel a hell of a lot better if you just stayed in your lab today."

"Well, I might not have that luxury," Barry pointed out, "If I get called out, I can't just refuse to go to a scene. I'm sorry, Joe, but it's out of my hands."

"Not once we tell the captain," Joe said gently, "We're telling him _today_ , and once he knows the circumstances, I'm sure he'll call in another CSI to go to the scenes for you."

Barry let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't need help," he said in a small voice, "I'm perfectly fine."

"You're sweating," Joe said sadly, "And you look really pale, Bar. Honestly, I'm nervous just to have you up and walking around right now."

"I'm not made of glass," Barry persisted, "I'm just a little tired, that's all. It's not like I'm going to keel over any minute."

Joe took a deep steadying breath, biting his tongue. That's exactly what Barry looked like. He looked like he was ready to drop at any moment. His hands were shaking terribly, and his skin was pale and clammy. Joe wondered if Barry even realized how dreadful he really looked.

"Barry, please don't do this," Joe urged, "Please don't push yourself too hard because you feel like you have to…prove something. It's okay to admit that you're sick."

"I'm not trying _prove_ anything," Barry insisted, "I'm just trying to do my job. I _want_ to do my job."

"You want things to be normal," Joe corrected sadly, "But they're not, Bar, no matter how much you want to deny it."

"I know my limits," Barry insisted, "I know how much I can handle."

"Says the guy who barely slept for two months as he singlehandedly tried to rebuild the city after the singularity."

"The singularity that _I_ caused," Barry retorted, "I'm just trying to be responsible for my actions, Joe."

"You didn't cause that singularity," Joe said, shaking his head, "Eddie did, when he erased Thawne from existence. You had no control over what happened."

"But I _should_ have," Barry gritted, "I should have had control over the situation, just like I should have had control over what happened with Zoom."

"I thought you were going to let that go, Bar," Joe said seriously.

"I am," Barry insisted, "I've accepted Jay's death. But _this_ , my job, it's the one thing I still have control over, the one responsibility I'm still able to fulfill. Don't take that away from me."

"Your responsibility is to _yourself_ right now," Joe corrected, "To your health. If you're not going to do it for yourself, then do it for the city. The city needs you, Bar. It needs you to be _healthy_ , so take care of yourself."

"I _am_ taking care of myself," Barry insisted, "I'm doing everything you say, Joe. I ate a full meal last night and this morning, and I'm telling the captain about my condition today even though I really don't want to. I'm doing everything you guys are telling me to, but this, this is something I'm not budging on. I _need_ this. It's not just about responsibility. I need this for my own sanity. I need to be something more than just sick right now."

"I'm not stopping you from being a CSI," Joe said sadly, "All I'm asking is that you don't go out to crime scenes. I'm not trying to take anything away from you, Bar."

"No, the cancer is," Barry said bitterly.

Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath before putting a hand on Barry's shoulder.

"I know this is hard," he said gently, "But you have to deal with this, Barry. You can't just ignore it. You're not alone in this. We're all here to support you. I wish there was more I could do to help you feel better, but I can't. All I can do is make sure you're taken care of. That's my only role here."

"This isn't about how I _feel_ , Joe," Barry said in a strained voice, "It's about who I _am_."

Joe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand what Barry was trying to say. Barry let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"I'm not trying to deny that I'm sick," he assured him, "I've accepted it, and I _am_ dealing with it. I just…I don't want _cancer_ to define me. I don't want to _just_ be sick. I…I want to be Barry Allen."

Joe's stomach clenched when he finally understood what Barry was saying.

"I don't see you that way, Bar," he choked, tears filling his eyes, "I don't think you're weak. You're the strongest man I know, and I still see you as the same old Barry I've always known. Nothing—no illness or powers or anything else—can change that."

Barry nodded and wiped his eyes as he looked at the floor.

"Hey," Joe said, causing him to look up again, "Do you remember what I said to you last year? After you got your powers?"

Barry's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he shook his head. Joe gave him a sad smile.

"I said the world may need the Flash," he said quietly, "But I need my Barry Allen. You'll always be Barry first to me, before _anything_ else. Before being the Flash and before being sick. That's never going to change, Bar."

Barry sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Thank you, Joe," he whispered.

Joe gave him a sad smile before pulling him in for a hug.

He would always be Barry to him.

* * *

"Ramon."

Cisco jumped about a mile and sucked in a sharp breath. The gadget he had been holding made contact with the floor a moment later, shattering to pieces.

"Jesus, Harry!" Cisco yelped, "What'd you do that for?!"

"All I did was say your name," Harry said, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"I swear you creep up on people just as much as the old Wells did," Cisco said, clutching his heart in annoyance.

"I think you're being just a tad overdramatic, Ramon," Harry scoffed, "You're the one being sketchy here."

"Sketchy?" Cisco huffed, "How am _I_ being sketchy?"

"You're being skittish," Harry accused.

"I'm not _skittish_ ," Cisco denied, perhaps a little too quickly, "What makes you say I'm being skittish?"

"Okay, I know I'm not the greatest when it comes to social cues and all, but I'm still observant, Ramon. It doesn't take a genius to notice you haven't been your usual annoying, talkative self lately."

"Barry has cancer," Cisco said flatly, his stomach clenching momentarily as the words left his lips, "Forgive me for not being as _chipper_ as usual."

"It's more than that," Harry insisted, stepping closer to him, "You know something."

"What?" Cisco said, averting his eyes, "What do you mean? I don't…"

"You vibed him, didn't you?" Harry pressed, "You vibed Barry."

Damn. Harry _was_ observant. Cisco stared at him for a moment, his mouth a thin line as he took a deep breath through his nose.

"Yes," he whispered, "I vibed him."

"What did you see?" Harry pressed.

Cisco shook his head, desperately trying to blink back the tears forming in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, "It was a future vibe. That's means it's not fixed. It could change yet."

Harry gave Cisco a knowing look with these words.

"Does Barry succumb to his illness?" he asked quietly, "Does the cancer kill him?"

Cisco gritted his teeth as he quickly shook his head.

"That's not going to happen."

"But it's what you saw," Harry pressed, "You saw Barry's death, didn't you?"

"I don't know _what_ I saw," Cisco said in a strained voice, "Everything was all happening at once. Barry wasn't… _dead_ , he…his heart was…"

Cisco took in a deep, shaky breath.

"He's going to get worse," he whispered, "He's going to get so much worse, Harry."

Harry nodded slowly and looked down at the floor in thought.

"Barry's strong, though," Harry said quietly, "He's a fighter. He's going to make it through this."

Cisco shook his head, his jaw locked as a lump formed in his throat.

"He's going to give up," he choked, tears forming in his eyes.

Harry blinked at him.

"What?"

"Barry, he…he's going to give up," Cisco whispered, "He's going to stop fighting."

Harry stared at him a moment before stubbornly shaking his head.

"No," he said firmly, "No, he's not. If there's one thing I admire about Barry, it's his resilience. He's a fighter. He wouldn't stop trying."

"But he will," Cisco choked, "It's going to be too much for him, and he's going to stop accepting treatment. That's what I saw. In my vibe, Barry wanted to give up. He didn't want us to try to save him. He was too weak, too _sick_ , to keep going."

"So we'll make sure he doesn't reach that point," Harry said simply, "We won't let him get that bad."

"How?" Cisco demanded, "How are we supposed to do that? How are we supposed to change the future when we're _already_ doing everything we can to cure him?"

"Ramon," Harry said seriously, "The future is already in flux now. Just by seeing the future, your decisions and actions will now be impacted by what you saw."

Cisco shook his head, gritting his teeth.

"We don't know if it works that way," he choked, "For all we know, the future is fixed and there's nothing we can do to change it."

"You're right," Harry sighed, "But we can't afford to think that way. All we can do is hope that the future _can_ be changed and do whatever we can to prevent it."

Cisco nodded and stared down at the floor.

"Are you planning on telling anyone?" Harry asked after a moment, "Are you going to tell the others what you saw?"

"I don't know," Cisco replied in a strained voice, "I wasn't planning to. I didn't see the point in crushing everyone's hope. At the same time, though, maybe it could…spare Barry some pain…knowing ahead of time what's going to happen."

"Are you saying he should give up?" Harry asked in hard voice, "That he should just quit now and not put himself through all these treatments?"

"I don't know _what_ I'm saying," Cisco choked, "I guess I'm thinking…maybe Barry could just enjoy the time he has left."

Harry nodded slowly, looking away in thought.

"Maybe you're right," he muttered.

Cisco took in a shaky breath and shook his head.

"You're supposed to _disagree_ with me," he choked, "You're supposed to tell me I'm stupid for even thinking that. That we need to make sure Barry keeps fighting."

"I can't say that, Ramon," Harry said quietly, "Because I see both sides of what you're saying. I can't tell you what to do with this information because…I don't know what to do."

Cisco let out a shaky breath and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Please keep this between us," he said quietly, "Don't tell the others about my vibe."

"So you're not going to tell them?" Harry asked gently.

"I don't know yet," Cisco choked, "I just need time…to think it over."

Harry nodded and put a hand on his shoulder, the two of them sharing a look of understanding for a moment before Harry sighed and walked away.

Cisco knew what they were both thinking.

Barry didn't have much time to spare.

* * *

Barry couldn't tell if he was sweating from the fever that had been gradually rising all morning or if it was from nerves. He was almost certain, though, that it was a combination of the two. He knew he had to do this, and he walked with Joe in resignation, wanting to just get this conversation over with.

"Come in," Singh's voice said when Joe tapped on the door.

Joe squeezed Barry's shoulder and gave him an encouraging nod before he opened the door. Barry didn't know why he was so nervous as he and Joe stepped into the small office. It wasn't like Singh was family. Telling him wasn't nearly as scary as telling Joe had been, and he didn't get anywhere near as nervous as he did when he thought about telling Iris or his dad.

At the same time, though, this was a different kind of nervous. Singh wasn't family. He wasn't close to them. So telling him felt like telling the world. It would be out of his close group of loved ones. It would be public. Even if Singh kept it between them, it still felt like he was going public with it.

It felt more real.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Singh asked tiredly as they entered the room.

"We need to discuss something with you," Joe said softly.

Singh raised his eyebrows as he watched Joe tightly close the door to the room, ensuring privacy.

"Is this about a case?" he asked curiously.

Joe shook his head. He glanced nervously at Barry before taking his arm and gently ushering him into one of the chairs across from Singh's desk, taking the seat next to him. For a moment, the three men stared at each other, a confused look on Singh's face as he took in Joe's grave expression and Barry's nervous one. Barry took a deep breath before deciding he should be the one to break the silence.

"It's about me," he said quietly, wringing his hands in his lap, "I…I'm probably going to be taking some time off in the near future."

Singh raised an eyebrow.

"Time off?"

Barry nodded, unable to meet the captain's eyes.

"You might want to hire a temporary CSI for while," he said in a strained voice, "Just in case."

Singh furrowed his eyebrows in confusion for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'm going to need more specifics, Allen," he said seriously, "Like _when_ you're going to be taking time off and the _reason_ for it."

Barry took a deep, shaky breath, but when he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out. He couldn't help but look over at Joe for help. Joe nodded sadly before turning to the captain, speaking in a soft voice.

"Barry was recently diagnosed with late-stage leukemia."

Singh blinked at Joe for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. His eyes then turned to Barry, but Barry wasn't looking at him. He was staring down at the floor.

"What?" Singh whispered.

"He was diagnosed a few weeks ago," Joe told him in a strained voice, "And he just started chemotherapy for it last week."

"Cancer?" Singh breathed, a shocked look on his face.

Barry couldn't look up at his boss. He stared down at his hands, which were clenched into fists as he spoke in a soft voice.

"I don't know when or _if_ I'm going to need time off," he said softly, still looking down, "I just had to make sure you knew so you could make arrangements…just in case."

"Barry," Singh breathed, running a hand over his face, "I…I'm so sorry."

Barry shook his head and finally looked up at the captain.

"It's okay," he whispered, his mouth dry, "I'm getting treatment for it, and I'm going to be just fine."

"Is there anything I can do?" Singh asked seriously, looking back and forth between the two of them, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Barry slowly shook his head, but Joe cleared his throat and spoke in a gentle voice.

"Another CSI would help," he said softly, "Just someone to go out in the field for him. He shouldn't be on his feet more than what's necessary."

"Should he even be on his feet at _all_?" Singh asked seriously, staring at Barry.

Barry looked down again, unable to look at either of them as his cheeks tinted pink. He knew he looked dreadful. He _felt_ dreadful. It was only made worse by having another person call him out on it.

"Probably not," Joe sighed, side-glancing at Barry, "But he _wants_ to be here."

Barry gritted his teeth as he looked down at his lap. He knew Joe was right and that he was being stubborn. Joe didn't need to go telling their boss that, though.

"I'm perfectly fine," he said quietly, "I can handle doing a little lab work."

"Still," Joe sighed, looking at Singh, "He's going to need Fridays off at the very least. He gets his chemo infusions on Thursdays. He might need Mondays off as well, if he needs more time to recuperate after a treatment."

"Three days is plenty," Barry insisted, looking back and forth between the two of them, "I got through this first treatment just fine. I don't think I'll need to take Mondays off, too."

"You're going to get worse, Bar," Joe said gently.

Barry sucked in a slow breath through his nose, reigning in his frustration. Joe was supposed to be _supporting_ him through this conversation, but he seemed much more intent on overplaying his illness to the captain. Barry knew Joe was just being honest with him, though. He was just trying to get him to face reality, to make sure the seriousness of the situation wasn't taken for granted. Barry couldn't say he was mad at Joe for it. None of this was Joe's fault. He was just the one trying to voice the reality of the situation.

If Joe didn't do it, no one else would.

"Allen," Singh said gently, causing Barry to timidly look up at him, "I can't say how much I appreciate your loyalty to this precinct…but if you should be on sick leave right now, then you really shouldn't be here. You should be focusing on your treatment."

"I don't need a sick leave right now," Barry insisted stubbornly.

This was exactly what Barry had been afraid of. He had feared that telling Singh would cause his boss to _force_ him into taking time off, the same way Singh had forced Southworth to retire.

"I can still do my job," Barry choked.

"I know you can," Singh said quickly, "This isn't about your work performance, Barry. I know you're an amazing CSI. This is about your _health_ , your wellbeing. You have _cancer,_ and if being here is going to compromise your treatment, then I can't in good conscience allow you to be working here while you're sick."

Barry shook his head, tears forming in his eyes as he looked over to Joe for help. Joe was staring at him, a saddened expression on his face. He didn't say anything to back Barry up, though. It was because he agreed with Singh. This was exactly why Joe had wanted to tell Singh today. He had been hoping Singh would talk some sense into him.

"I'm not that sick yet," Barry insisted, shaking his head, "I can still be here."

"Allen, if this about your salary, we can be sure to arrange something," Singh suggested gently, "The CCPD offers paid sick leave for up to three months for employees who—"

"This isn't about money," Barry cut him off, "I don't want to be here for _financial_ reasons. I want to be here because I love my job. I _want_ to work."

"I understand," Singh said sadly, "I know you're passionate about your work, Barry, but—"

"This is more than just work to me," Barry said in a strained voice, "Being a CSI…it's who I _am_. Look, you and I both know I only went into this field to help my dad, but it's become so much more than that to me."

"I know," Singh said sadly, "And I'm not going to force you to leave, Barry, even if that might be what's best for you. I'll let you make that decision. If your health doesn't allow you to keep up with the strain, though, I _am_ going to insist on a sick leave for you."

"I can do this," Barry said in determination, "I can keep up with the work. I'll show you."

"No," Singh sighed, running a hand over his face, "No, you're misunderstanding me, Barry. I'm not saying this to make you work harder. The last thing I want is for you to strain yourself too hard to avoid a sick leave or try to _prove_ anything to me. I want you to take on only what you can handle. I'm going to hire some help for you, so you don't have to overstrain yourself."

"That's really not necessary," Barry insisted quickly, "I can do—"

"Barry," Joe said softly, giving him a serious look.

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay then," he muttered, the words tasting sour on his tongue, "I suppose I could use the help."

He felt like yet another piece of himself had been taken away.


End file.
